A New Beginning
by SammyGal123
Summary: Voldemort is dead. New relationships are formed and old ones fall apart. Harry and Hermione have always been attracted to each other, but they've kept it to themselves and away from their friends. Now that the Dark Lord is no longer a threat, Harry and Hermione find that they are exactly what they need for each other... Rated M due to mild adult themes and language.
1. Chapter 1

**A New Beginning - A Harry Potter Fanfic**

Welcome to my first Harry Potter Fanfic. I have always been a fan of JK Rowling's Harry Potter and I'd like to thank her for providing a wonderful world of fantasy.

This fanfic is based on the "What If Theory". The events occur after the demise of Lord Voldemort. I have always been a fan of Harry and Hermione. When I read the first book and was first introduced to the wonderful characters, my initial thought was that Harry and Hermione would end up being together as they are a better match than Harry and Ginny. Hermione has always been there for Harry as Harry has always been there for her even when Ron was hurtful towards her.

I was very disappointed when it turned out that Harry and Ginny would ultimately come together, therefore this story of mine is about a deeply fulfilling relationship between Harry and Hermione.

**DISCLAIMER**

I do not own the world and characters created by JK Rowling as they remain her property.

I hope you will enjoy my story as the events unfold over the chapters.

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**Chapter 01**

Shocked and dumbfounded I sink to my knees and I look towards the heavens. For the first time in my eighteen years, I finally understand what it means to have faith in the Lord above. Despite being a witch born to Christian parents, I have learnt to have faith. A painful twinge in my left wrist causes me to close my right hand over it. The sting of Bellatrix Lestranges' curse still lingers even though it happened a month ago.

After being on the run with Harry and Ron for the entire school year whilst trying to find ways and means to destroy Voldemort's horcruxes and been successful with that, the wizard we have feared for years is finally dead. Destroyed by Harry Potter - the boy who lived has now become the man responsible for the death of Voldemort.

Harry Potter...His name is like a well-loved song. Every time I think about him or am in his presence, my heart sings like nothing else...And this fills me with dread.

As I rise to my feet, I breathe a sigh of relief, hoping for fresh air, but I start coughing from the smoke and dust slowly settling around me. I briefly close my eyes to regain my sense of self and the reason as to why I am standing in the middle of the battle-field that was host to Voldemort's demise less than an hour ago. I know _why_ I was compelled to come here. For some reason I wanted to be absolutely certain of his demise and I want to...I need to speak to Harry.

The sound of footsteps draws my attention and I whirl around waving my wand just in case it's a death eater... I am still on high alert even though the remaining death eaters scattered to the four winds.

"Sorry," I murmur as I stow my wand in the back pocket of my navy blue jeans, "Old habits die hard."

He regards me for a moment before closing the distance between us, however I step back. I don't think I can handle being close to him without confessing the true nature of my feelings for him. He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly and smiles wryly at me as he pushes his glasses back onto his sharp nose.

"It's okay. I guess it's going to take some time to adjust to not whipping out our wands every second at every footstep or snapping twig we may hear."

When my response is not forthcoming, he folds his arms and once again regards me. His green eyes appraise me as they search for whatever he is looking for and it makes me slightly uncomfortable. To break eye contact, I smooth my filthy light pink sweater over my hips and in that instant, his eyes darken bringing a slight flush to my cheeks. My head whips up and meets his gaze dead-on. His lightning bolt scar seems to stand out against his pale complexion. He has always been very fair, but he definitely looks pale, yet the appreciation in his eyes is not lost on me.

I may not be as attractive as Ginny or Chou or the Patil twins, but I take pride in my size eight waist. I have hazel eyes and my hair is a mousy brown and I wear it long. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be better if I wore it short. Perhaps once I am finally away from the destruction of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry, I will change my style.

When he realises what he is doing, he lowers his eyes to the Elder Wand in his hands. To think that Voldemort was after that is a frightening thought. He would have wrought absolute destruction with it. Not only would he have destroyed our kind, he would have destroyed the entire human population to ensure that only pureblood wizards remained. I find it ironic, because Voldemort was a half-blood, yet he wanted only purebloods to rule the wizarding world.

"Hermione," he ventures and the soft and sad undertone in his voice forces me to close the distance between us, however I maintain my distance from him.

"Yes?" I murmur.

"Did you and Ron... You know?"

I look away. The kiss Ron and I shared in The Chamber of Secrets earlier today was a huge mistake as it made me realise the extent and depth of my feelings for Harry. When Ron kissed me, I expected to go weak at the knees or swoon, but I felt nothing. Not even a connection. He felt more than I did because he poured his heart and soul into that kiss...and I did not. I was the first to break our kiss and I couldn't look him in the eye after that.

After years of trying to figure out the nature of my feelings, I realised that the boy I wanted to be with was Harry. I didn't tell Ron that. It would break him if I did as he has always felt second best and not as important as Harry. He often told me that and I always told him it was not that way at all.

"Yes," I reply, "But he was not who I wanted to be with, Harry," I barely whisper and again his eyes darken. Is there a possibility that he feels the same way about me? What about Ginny? Have both Harry and I lived in denial for the past two years, if not more?

"Why do you say that? You've always been interested in him."

"I thought he was the one, Harry. I feel differently now."

His eyes gently probe mine and I have a difficult time ignoring the longing and hope in them.

"How so?" he finally asks.

"I don't know. I feel as if I've lived in a fantasy world for the past five years, and I am only waking up now."

"I don't believe you," he smirks and that nearly sends me over the edge. I've always found his smirk appealing and sexy. I love the way the corners of his mouth turn up as if he is going to smile, only to cock his head to the side as he is doing now and it makes his almost-smile transform into a smirk.

I wince when the scar left by Bellatrix starts throbbing and I quickly turn away before he sees my tears. I don't want him to see the pain it causes me. As far as I am concerned, his green eyes see far too much. They have seen far too much tragedy and death in his seventeen years. I can only imagine what he must feel knowing so many good witches and wizards died in a battle that was ultimately between him and Voldemort.

I feel the gentle pressure and warmth of his hands on my shoulders as he slowly turns me around.

"It's nothing," I blurt too quickly and he raises a perfectly arched bushy eyebrow at me.

"You don't lie very well, you know that?" he states as he lifts my left hand and carefully pushes up my sleeve exposing the word _mudblood_ permanently tattooed into my wrist.

"You care too much," I whisper and he chuckles softly. It's low and pleasing sound to my ears and sends my heart soaring as it wanted to a moment ago.

"I was hoping you would realise why...I care so much for you by now, Hermione."

Swallowing hard, I can only watch as he runs his thumb along the length of my scar. In the light, the scar on the top of his hand is glaringly obvious and it reads: I must not tell lies. I remember when first I noticed it - I was horrified.

It was during our fifth year when a despicable woman was placed by the Ministry of Magic to teach _Defense against the Dark Arts_. Dolores Umbridge. She was vile and wanted to take over the school. During our first lesson with her, Harry spoke out about Cedric Diggory's death and Voldemort's return and she did not believe him. She gave him detention and his scar was the end result of her tortuous methods of punishment. The word sadistic comes to mind.

And then he does something completely unexpected. He presses his lips on the scar and trails featherlight kisses along the length of it, leaving a burning path in its wake. I try stifling my gasp, but it bursts forth. His reaction is immediate. He drops my hand and wraps his arms around me and he nuzzles my neck. _He nuzzles my neck_… Oh my God. And then he trails butterfly kisses along my neck to my earlobe which he nibbles. I can't begin to describe what his kisses are doing to me, apart from my singing heart that feels fit to soar and glide away from everything.

"Harry," I breathe as his hand interlocks with mine. He pulls back and gently touches my cheek with his fingers. The air changes, and becomes charged with electricity between us. This time I cannot deny what my eyes see in his or what my heart tells me. In my heart, I know he belongs to me and by his hooded eyes he feels exactly the same.

"Hermione, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen...," he breathes as he leans towards me.

He thinks I am beautiful. Ron has never ever told me that. During the Yule Ball during our fourth year, he was the only one, apart from Viktor Krum to tell me I looked beautiful.

I angle towards him, ready to receive his kiss, when he pauses. He is so close I see every speck of dust and grime on his face. He is so close, I feel his gentle breath on my lips.

"Harry!"

We hastily pull apart as Ron jogs towards us. I do not know how much he has seen. I try freeing my hand from Harry's, but he tightens his grip, steps right up to me until our arms touch and moves our hands behind his back.

"Yeah?"

"They want to see you...Back at The Great Hall. My Mum also wants to know if you have made up your mind about staying with us for a while."

Harry gives me a sidelong glance. "Does her offer extend to Hermione?"

I cannot deny the concern in his green eyes. He is concerned about my welfare, whereas Ron is a self-absorbed git and my wellbeing is the last thing he will think about. I cannot fathom why I was so attracted to him. During all our years as friends, he has also passed insults my way, without sparing thought to how it made me feel.

"Yeah, mate. Of course it does. Mum wants all of us together..." He massages his neck and sighs, "For Fred's funeral."

"Fred's funeral?" I murmur more to myself than the guys.

"Yeah... Come on. They want to see you. As for me, I can't wait to get out of here...and away from all this death..." I can't help noticing how his blue eyes roam my body and it makes me very uncomfortable. I don't like the way he is looking at me. It feels as if he is undressing me with his eyes. Harry senses my discomfit because he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. I slowly exhale and it ruffles his already tousled hair that no matter how many times he brushes and combs it, never stays flat. He shivers slightly - I don't know if is because of me or the fact that the tension between the three of us has dropped several degrees, but again, he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze and I relax and so does he.

"Likewise, Ron," murmurs Harry as we walk behind him. If he noticed anything, he doesn't show it, but then he has never been that observant. If he cannot see that I don't return his feelings, than there is no hope for him in the long run.

"Hey," says Ron, pausing at the steps leading into the Great Hall, "Are you keeping the Elder Wand?"

Harry shakes his head, "No. I am going to use it to repair my wand…"

I flinch about this. During our visit to Godric's Hollow, we were at Bathilda Bagshot's home under the illusion that it was she, however as soon as we walked in, we instantly realised something was amiss, yet Harry followed her to the first floor. I explored the ground floor and in one of the rooms, there was a corpse of the real Bathilda Bagshot, covered in flies and maggots. At the same time, I heard a commotion above me. My heart nearly dropped when I realised he was in trouble. I found my way up there and was horrified to see him fending off a snake that was the human form of the deceased Bathilda Bagshot. At the time, I did not understand what evil magic created it and I didn't care to understand, but I had to help him as he was without a wand. I remember searching for it and I found it at the same time our hands interlocked and we apparated out of the window at the same time an explosion rocked the house. During the process, his wand broke.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, knowing how much his wand meant to him. To a wizard and witch a wand is an extension of ourselves and to be without a wand is like losing your arm. He squeezes my hand to let me know he is okay with it.

"And then what are you going to do with it?" asks Ron as he folds his arms and stares down at us. He is a big guy. Far bigger than Harry and sometimes he can be intimidating, like now when he is readying himself to argue the point with whatever decision Harry has made concerning the Elder Wand.

"Do with it?" he scoffs, "Do you honestly think I am going to keep it, Ronald?"

He flinches at the use of his full name. Harry never calls him by his full name unless he is well and truly exasperated with him. Except this time, he is angry.

"You are the master of death, Harry. You should keep it."

Harry shrugs his shoulders in a non-caring way. "So? Do you think I can carry this wand and forget about the lives that were lost this evening? Do you honestly think I can carry it with pride when so many innocents died because of me? Because of the battle that was ultimately between Voldemort and I?" He clenches his jaw and glares at Ron as if he is the biggest dumbass on the earth. It's my turn to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. He relaxes…slightly. "The wand belongs to Professor Dumbledore, and I want…I am going to return it to his White Tomb."

Harry tightens his grip as we push past Ron. He notices our interlocked hands, but he does not react. It's not as if we haven't held hands before. Many times whenever we ran from something, it was Harry's hand who always reached for mine. I never thought much of it. There was never time to think about it as we were too preoccupied with whatever was going on at the time.

When I look back, Ron is a few steps behind me, keeping his blue eyes firmly fixed on my ass and it pisses me off…for real this time, but I don't get the opportunity to tell him off…Not this time, but I will when the dust has settled.

As soon as we step into the Great Hall, Harry is whisked away by Professor McGonagall, leaving me cold and bereft without the warm pressure of his hand on mine, and in the company of Ron. Shivering slightly, I fold my arms and rub them to restore some warmth. Ron shoves his hands into his pockets and stares resolutely ahead at nothing in particular. I can't help noticing the way his jaw clenches as if he is thinking about something unpleasant. I force myself to look away and my eyes seek out Harry. I don't see him of course. He is probably discussing his wish to have the Elder Wand returned to the White Tomb.

"Why won't he keep it, Hermione?"

"I think it is commendable, Ron. The wand does belong to Professor Dumbledore."

"But he won it fair and square. If I had the wand-"

I whirl around, glaring at him and he gapes at me in open surprise at my unexpected attack. I know why I feel the need to defend him and as I regard his profile, I wonder if my earlier thought about him being not as observant as the rest of us was way off the mark. I quickly rearrange my face into what I hope is a neutral expression. "And use it for what purpose, Ronald? Look around us," I open my arms and turn in a slow circle taking in the devastation around us. "He is right. The wand should be returned to its rightful place." I lower my arms to my sides and I drop my gaze to my scuffed and filthy sneakers.

"Are you hot for him, Hermione?"

I blush crimson and refuse to look him in the eye. "Why would you say that?" I squeak.

"I don't know," he says harshly, "Why don't you tell me?"

His sarcasm and pain is not lost on me, yet I feel absolutely nothing for him. He does not stir my heart like Harry does. I look up just as he brushes past me to where his Mum and family are sitting quietly together. Ginny - my best friend and soon to be former best friend - sits apart from them and a sense of utter loss, devastation and loneliness settles over me as I observe the tight family unit.

I have to bite my tongue to keep from crying out. I have nowhere to go. My parents are in Australia and they have no idea that I even exist. Using the Obliviate charm on them to rid them of every memory they had of me was the most difficult thing for me to do. I cried…for weeks after that and Harry was the only one who understood the depth of my pain. Ron did not do a thing, but distance himself the longer we travelled the land trying to find the solution to destroying the horcruxes.

Things worsened to the point where Ron packed his bags and left. I think it was at that point I realised that whatever I thought I felt for him had been well and truly crushed. If he cared at all, he would not have taken off like he did and when he returned, I felt nothing. I closed my heart to him, and opened it completely to Harry, who has always been my source of comfort. Harry who held my hand when that stupid blond, Lavender Brown kissed Ron in front of all the Gryffindors during our sixth year and because Ron has the emotional range of a teaspoon, he lapped it up as if starved for affection. Harry has always been there for me as I have been for him. Right from the moment we first hugged at the impressionable age of eleven years old after the incident with the Philosopher's Stone during our first year at Hogwarts. It was Harry who told me how worried he was when I was petrified during our second year. He only revealed the concern he experienced after he saved Ginny from Voldemort's clutches. He told me he thought I'd never wake up and I was touched because he cared…and Ron remained oblivious…as usual.

I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my weary head on my lap. There is nothing more I want than to leave this place of death and sadness and go somewhere warm and sunny. I don't want to continue my education at Hogwarts. I want to go to a muggle university and do a muggle degree and work as a muggle dentist or doctor. I don't want to work for the Ministry of Magic. But I don't know if I can do all of that if Harry decides to complete his education. I don't want to go where he is not willing to follow. I need him and the thought of not seeing him again, kills me.

"Hey, what did you do to piss off my brother?"

I don't bother looking up. "I rejected his kiss," I reply, thinking a deviation from the truth would be better than spilling my guts to Ginny who has loved Harry since she was eleven.

"Ron kissed you? He actually plucked up the courage to kiss you?" I don't miss the incredulous tone of surprise in her voice.

"Why the tone of surprise, Ginny?" I ask more out of interest than anything else.

"Um…I don't know. I didn't think he had it in him and why did you reject his kiss? You can't still be pissed off about him ditching you and Harry."

Swallowing hard, I meet her warm brown eyes and I hope my expression is neutral, but my words get lost somewhere in the back of my throat. I cannot tell her because she will tell Ron and I am not ready to openly discuss the way I feel about Harry with everyone else.

"Or," she smiles. "Is he that bad? I thought with the amount of practice he had with Lavender, he would have least known how to kiss."

"Life is not all about guys, Ginny," I snap. Now her reputation as a cock teaser is something else entirely. She's had more guys than I care to count and all because she went overboard with the advice I gave to her about playing the field to attract Harry's attention. I deadpan her. "We both know you are not as innocent as you perceive yourself to be."

She huffs and lifts her chin defiantly, "So says Miss Prim and Proper. You wouldn't know how to screw a guy even if you tried."

"Unlike you, Ginny, I am-"

"What?" she cuts me off, "Saving yourself for the _right_ guy? Grow up, Hermione, otherwise you are going to grow up alone if you do not put yourself out there."

I jump to my feet and round on her. "At least I will grow old with the right guy, and not with just any rabble from the street. Coming from someone who is not shy about the guys she's had, you have no right to judge me!"

We glare at each other until my head starts pounding and my wrist gives an extremely painful twinge and my eyes fill with tears. I desperately cast around looking for Harry. Where is he when I need him the most?

"You were the one who told me to play the field," she throws back.

"Don't pin it on me, Ginny. I never told you to go from one guy to the next and nor did I think you would take my advice so completely to heart, but seriously, one guy a month?"

"It was not like that," she says softly.

"Well, guys talk, Ginny and what comes out of their mouths is anything but… Fred and George were right to show their concern," I whisper, knowing it will just end up in one of us crying, but I harden my heart. I will not cry. Too many lives have been lost and I don't have enough tears to shed for every one of them. I can't help observing the way she straightens herself and folds her arms as if she is trying to ease her pain. I don't care right now. I gently massage my wrist to ease the pain but it makes it worse. I stamp my foot in an effort to blow off some steam.

"Where are you?" I whisper, more to myself than to anyone.

"Who?" she asks, looking around us and then at me, I quickly plaster a fake smile on my face.

"Please leave me alone," I murmur as I once again cast my eyes around for Harry and I see him coming towards me. I don't know what he sees on my face, but he starts jogging towards us. Ginny is with me. She will see…She will see and that does nothing to ease my shattered nerves or the tight knots in my stomach. I wrap my arms protectively around myself and I try to act indifferent, but that is not lost on him as he stops next to me.

"Hey Ginny," he says quietly, plastering a fake smile on his face.

"Hey yourself," she returns as she coolly regards us and a tense silence ensues.

"What did the Professors say?" I ask to diffuse the tension.

He gives me a tired smile and that is when I notice the dark circles around his eyes. He looks weary and worn out and he is only seventeen. I am tempted to brush his fringe back, but I resist and clench my hands into tight fists.

"They agree, Hermione."

"So when-"

"They want to restore the school before I return it," he says softly.

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asks after silently observing our conversation.

"The Elder Wand. I am going to return it to the White Tomb…"

She frowns and is about to say something when Harry holds up his hand. "It is my decision. I don't want to get into the details," he says quietly.

"I-" she trails off obviously thinking better of it, "I should go back to my family. See you back at The Burrow?" she asks directing her question more at Harry, than me and a surge of jealousy sweeps through me, nearly winding me. If she thinks she is going to get her claws into him, she has another thing coming.

"Yeah…Whatever," he says as he slowly turns away from her. I watch her flounce back to her waiting family and once her back is to me, I reach for his hand, interlocking our fingers together.

"Let's get out of here," I whisper and a slow smile spreads across his handsome face.

"I was thinking the same thing, but you do realise we have to go to The Burrow?" he asks as we walk through the doors, into a new dawn. The first pink rays of the sun are peaking through the clouds and it fills me with renewed hope.

"Yes," I murmur. We both know we are going to face new challenges and none of it is going to be well-received…and I don't want to think about it now. As we regard each other, we reach an understanding. We are not going to broach the subject yet, and that is fine with me. We've lived in denial for too long. What is another week or two or three?


	2. Chapter 2

Hi everyone, below is chapter two of my story, A New Beginning. I would like to thank those of you for your positive feedback. I really appreciate it. I hope you will enjoy the next chapter as much as the first one.

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**Chapter 02**

I pick at my food as I am not really hungry. I am angry with Ginny for seating herself between Harry and I. Everyone is silent and deep in thought around the dinner table. Most of us are picking at our food except for Ron, who eats like a horse. He is onto his second helping and I scowl. For as long as I have known him, he has always had a big appetite. Some gravy drips onto his red jersey and he doesn't even bother cleaning himself and if I was scowling a minute ago, I am definitely scowling deeper - if that is even possible - at the moment. He is seated on my right, whilst Ginny is on my left and every time she reaches across for something else, like the salt, she deliberately touches Harry's shoulder and it is grating my nervous. If Harry notices, he does not comment. In fact he has been unusually quiet and broody this evening. Occasionally I catch him watching me from the corner of my eye and he is doing that right now. I pretend not to notice him otherwise if I took look at him, I am going to blush beet-red and that is the last thing I want when we are supposed to be concentrating on the occasional small talk happening around the table. I give the table a cursory glance. Mr Weasley is talking softly to his wife. Percy has not looked up from his full plate of food. Bill and Fleur are huddled together and as for George, he appears lost without his twin. He has not cracked a single joke since Harry and I arrived at The Burrow after lunch.

Our arrival was frowned upon by every single Weasley family member except Mr Weasley who regarded us with fatherly concern. Harry and I spent the morning walking the streets of London in an effort to distract us from our thoughts. We held hands the entire time as if it was the most natural thing in the world for us. Now that the dust is slowly settling and I don't have much to think about apart from my definite attraction to Harry, Bellatrix's evil face keeps popping into my mind. I have not had the time to think about that night when she tattooed _mudblood_ onto my wrist. She took great delight in torturing me until I was barely conscious. I never understood why she hated me so much. It's like she had it in for my mudblood status as if it was my fault I was born to non-magical parents.

At the moment, my head is spinning with images of her evil grin, wild-haired look and mocking laughter. I grip my fork in an effort to calm down, but it's too much. There is nothing to distract me from my darkening thoughts. I don't want to even think about the night ahead, when everyone is asleep and all is dark and quiet. I close my eyes in effort to control my threatening tears, but to my chagrin, a single tear rolls down my cheek and my eyes shoot open and I wildly look around for Harry. By this point, the table is dead quiet as everyone's eyes are fixated on me. I feel my cheeks burn in shame about my weakness and I don't know where to look except at Harry who is regarding me with utmost concern in his green eyes. I silently plead with him to help me. Without breaking eye contact with me, he pushes himself out of his chair and Ginny - I don't know what she sees on my face or Harry's face, but her expression is livid as she tries to block his approach.

"Let me pass, Ginny," he says softly and quietly, not quite hiding the irritation in his voice. He folds his arms and silently regards her. She lifts her chin defiantly and he just stands there patiently waiting for her to move.

"No…If you go to her, there will no longer be an _us_," she states.

He sighs and runs his fingers through his unruly hair. "She needs me, Ginny. Please do not make this anymore difficult than it is. Now let me pass." He presses his lips into a hard thin line as he folds his arms and stares her down. Not in an intimidating way unlike Ron, but in more of a warning or silent plea. She mutters something unintelligible under her breath as she finally steps aside. He stops in front of me and holds out his hand. Without hesitating, I grab it, allowing him to pull me to my feet. He immediately wraps his arm around my shoulders as he guides me away from the table. It is so quiet, you could hear a pin drop if someone dropped it, and I don't want to even think about the various reactions that will occur once we are out of earshot. For years everyone assumed that Ron and I would get together and that Harry and Ginny would get together. Now they will realise that they were wrong. Sadly I cannot take any joy from that. He leads me into the study, closes the door and seats me on the couch beneath the window over-looking the garden.

"Talk to me," he says softly as he drops next to me and I instinctively move into his space. He drops his arm around my shoulder and tucks me into his side.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I settle for picking lint off his green jersey that brings out his eyes, "It was nothing…Just a flashback," I whisper.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks softly.

"Not really. I just want to be anywhere else but here, Harry."

"I know the feeling," he says softly as his hand finds its way beneath my blue jersey. As he nudges the sleeve of the shirt beneath it, his fingers graze the bare flesh of my shoulder sending a delicious tingle throughout my body and I gasp, only to clap my hand in front of my mouth. He reaches for my hand, brings it to his lips and trails blazing kisses along my knuckles. I sit absolutely still so that I can get used to the sensation of his lips on my skin. As I watch, he flips over my hand until my palm faces upwards, and he plants a soft moist kiss on the centre and that elicits an unexpected sigh from me. He then lifts my chin, so that I am turned towards him. His expression is dark and his eyes are hooded as he trails kisses from my palm, to the scar on my wrist. His touch is so soothing and exciting all at once and very new. I don't really understand my reaction to him, yet by his ragged breathing, I realise he feels it just as much as I do.

"Hermione," he whispers as he cups my chin and leans towards me. My eyes dart from his eyes to his lips. His heart beats rapidly beneath my hand and my heart rate increases until it beats in harmony to his. He pauses a mere inch from my lips.

"Harry? Hermione?"

We pull apart and quickly provide distance between us and just in time because Mrs Weasley walks in with a tray of two steaming cups of tea, scones and biscuits she prepared today. She regards us for a moment, no doubt taking in our dishevelled appearance. I certainly feel flustered and way too hot for a mild spring day. Out of habit, I run my fingers through my hair and then I do blush because it is in a state. I am definitely going to cut it as soon as I get the chance.

"I thought…considering that you both didn't eat your supper, you might want something light to fill those bellies of yours. You must be hungry," she says softly as she sets the tray aside on the coffee table.

"Not really, but thank you, Mrs Weasley. This is very thoughtful of you," I murmur, offering her a grateful smile. She's like my second Mum… My thoughts drift away to a time long ago when my parents and me were still a family. Swallowing hard, I force the growing lump down my throat so that it does not overwhelm me in its intensity.

"Well, try to eat something. It won't do to have both of you becoming skinnier than you already are. Just try."

"We will," says Harry as he gets to his feet and starts pacing in front of us. "I want to apologise for what happened out there, Mrs Weasley. I know you went to a lot of effort to prepare the meal for us and I apologise if we have ruined it."

"Apologise, for what, dear boy?"

He pauses to regard her for a moment and then a slow smile graces his face, "I don't know, exactly…It's just that I felt…a vibe. I know everyone assumes-"

"That you and Ginny are together? It's glaringly obvious that your heart belongs to someone else and I am not going to hold that against you…or you, Hermione. I did notice…I don't know… A vibe, if that is the word you want to use, between you the two of you."

My jaw drops and I grab my cup of tea, "How long have you-" I start when she holds up hand and smiles softly at me.

"Does it matter? You are part of the family and I don't want the two of you to feel uncomfortable. This is your home…It can be your home, if you want it to be. All I ask is that you don't keep this away from Ron and Ginny for longer than you feel is absolutely necessary."

I look away, lost in thought about what she has just said. I hate to admit, but she is right. It would not be fair to either of them if we don't come clean with them and the thought really makes me uncomfortable. I have a sip of my tea to give myself a chance to think. _What is the point of hiding our true feelings when they are no doubt showing on our faces and our body language when we are in the same room? How much does she see? If she has already surmised that there is something between us, then surely everyone else knows or at least suspects?_

"Mrs Weasley," intervenes Harry as he grabs his cup of tea. "Have you considered my request with regards to sleeping arrangements?"

I flash him a small smile, thanking him for steering the conversation away from…us. _Us?_ I like the way it sounds.

"Yes, I have. The attic has been cleared of that disgusting slime. It's your space for as long as you need. I understand why you want a spot to go to when you need to think, but as you are technically under my care, you will-"

"Mrs Weasley, please," laughs Harry to cover his embarrassment and I do a poor job of keeping my expression neutral. I lower my eyes to the swirling liquid of my tea and I try to distract myself from the way my thoughts are going. Sharing a bed with him has not entered my head until now and the thought does nothing to ease my tension. We have not so much as kissed…yet.

"Okay…I won't press the matter. I don't need to tell you what to do, not after you saved us from The Dark Lord." She shudders as if the title leaves a bad taste in her mouth. It has certainly left a bad taste in my mouth. She continues, "I apologise, Harry. I really do, but if either of you ever feel the need to talk, then let me know."

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," he says softly, yet the strain in his voice draws my attention. His expression is also strained and he automatically moves his hand to the nape of his neck and massages it.

"Where am I going to sleep?" I ask to move the focus to me. She lowers her eyes and sighs. This cannot be good and it does nothing to ease my nerves.

"With Ginny…Unfortunately," she replies firmly, leaving no room for argument and I stifle my sigh. I am going to share the room with Ginny. That is going to be so much fun. My own sarcasm is not lost on me. I tuck my legs beneath me and rest my head on the comfortable couch. I hold my cup securely as I attempt to empty my mind of all its thoughts. I don't open my eyes when the door clicks open and then closes. I don't open them when he sits next to me and I try not opening them when he seeks out my hand, but it is difficult, so I give up. I open my eyes and offer him a smile which feels weak, even to me.

"If you need me, call me," he says softly as he plucks my cup from my hand. I protest, but not for long because he grabs a pillow, puts it onto his lap. "But for now," he says as he tugs me towards him.

"Harry," I breathe.

"Just shut it, Hermione," he whispers and without another word passing my lips, I do what he wants and I lie down. He smooths my fringe back and starts stroking my hair and I decide to take the opportunity to mention my plan for a makeover.

"Harry, would you…still care for me if I cut my hair?"

His brow creases into a disbelieving frown and he solemnly shakes his head. "No. Do you want to cut it short?"

"Well, I was thinking along those lines. I guess I want to do something normal,"

"Like have your hair cut," he laughs, "Or," he breathes, "Is there something you would like to tell me?"

"Yes…I want to cut it short," I reply, deliberately ignoring the innuendo in his words. If he thinks I am going to confess my attraction to him… My attraction. A warm flush starts spreading throughout my body, warming me from the inside out.

He says nothing to me as he takes in my flushed cheeks. His eyes don't leave mine and that just makes me very flustered, so much so, I push up my sleeves to cool down. This, I realise as soon as his eyes darken, was a mistake, because he shifts beneath me and his expression is almost pained as if he is very uncomfortable. Oh my God. I bolt upright, sending the pillow flying and I move as far away as I can from him. In front of me, he blushes beet-red and I know why as soon as I notice the bulge beneath his jeans. Oh my God. He wants me and the thought draws a soft whimper from my lips without meaning to as the extent of his attraction sinks in. I should look away, but I am fascinated by what I see. He shifts again and sighs softly as if he can't quite fathom or perhaps he is exasperated with his body's betrayal.

"Hermione," he breathes as he carefully scoots next to me. I press further back into the couch, providing distance between us, but the heat radiating off him is too much. If he reaches for my hand I am going to lose it. "Please, let me kiss you," he whispers.

"Harry…I…I," I cast around for something, anything to say and I come up empty-handed. In spite of my hesitation, he reaches for my hand anyway and just as I predicted, I lose it. I launch myself at him. His arms shoot around me at the same our lips mesh together. I moan softly as he tentatively parts my lips with his moist tongue. As he darts into the warm recesses of my mouth, we elicit collective sighs and I sink my fingers into his mop of unruly hair. Without breaking our kiss, he gently lays me back on the couch and he carefully lowers himself onto me. I smile as our kiss deepens as his warmth surrounds me. I have dreamt of this for a long time and I never ever thought my first kiss with Harry would feel quite like this. His mouth is gentle and tender on mine and I love the way his lips mold with mine. I love the way he feels on top of me. If it feels this good, what is going to feel like when we eventually make love for the first time? What is it going to feel like to feel his naked skin against the bare flesh of my stomach, chest and breasts? My breast are already standing at attention and I want his hands on them, however he abruptly pulls away.

"I'm sorry…I did not," he says as he stares helplessly at me before looking at himself. "Shit, Hermione."

I jump to my feet and grab his hands. "It's okay, Harry. Just relax. You do the same to me. Just look at me," I whisper as I grab his hand and place it over my breast so that he can feel the extent of what he does to me. "You make me think things I have never thought about before. I want you more than I care to admit," I whisper as he steps closer to me and I laugh when I notice his skew glasses. I release his hand to straighten them and push them back onto his nose. He is a head and shoulders taller than me and it's a comfortable height. I don't have to strain myself to reach him. As I move my hands from his glasses, I allow my fingers to graze his jawline before dropping my hands to his shoulders. "That's better," I murmur. He drops his hands to my hips and pulls me towards him.

"I will try to keep better control of my…emotions," he says softly as he presses his lips to my forehead. _I love you_ is on the tip of my tongue, but I hesitate. I don't want to be too forward. Our kiss was more than enough to handle and I don't want to complicate an already-complicated situation, especially when we risk losing our closest friends and I don't know his thoughts about that. I don't even want to consider his thoughts about that.

"I know what you are thinking, Hermione," he murmurs and startled, I look up, a bit taken aback by his comment, but at the same time, it pleases me.

"What are we going to do?"

"Nothing…for the moment. We will broach the subject once everything has settled down. For now, I don't want you to worry about it. We will know when the time is right," he says softly with utmost sincerity in his voice. "And now, I think we should rejoin them."

I step away from him and quickly straighten my clothes as I don't want to walk in looking as flustered as I feel. Smiling at him, I watch him straighten his clothes and then he runs his fingers through his hair trying to neaten it. Instead he makes it worse and I roll my eyes out of pure amusement.

"Your hair is hopeless," I chuckle.

"Yeah, it is," he smiles back as he grabs my hand. "And the best part is that you cut it."

I blush. I don't need a reminder of the way I cut his hair. "I didn't do a very good job, Harry. You know this."

"Yeah, I do and stop stalling, Hermione."

"Stalling? I am not stalling."

"Yes, you are. Now come along," he laughs as he pulls me towards the door, leaving me with little choice but to follow him.

With my heart hammering loudly in my ears and my stomach in knots, we walk back to the diningroom. To my surprise, the table is empty except for Mr Weasley reading The Daily Prophet. The front page is covered with moving photographs of the events of last night. It is difficult to believe that we were all fighting for our lives less than twenty-four hours ago. It feels unreal and overwhelming and I don't quite know what I should be feeling. It's difficult to be relieved or joyful about it now that the threat is gone, but what about those who died? Many of my fellow students died. Some as young as eleven years old. Innocent lives cut short. It does not seem fair somehow.

"Harry. Hermione."

"Mr Weasley."

I have to smile. Harry has always been very polite and respectful of his elders, yet he is not afraid to speak his mind when he has to.

I will never ever forget the time when Remus Lupin tried shirking his responsibility to Tonks during her pregnancy with Teddy. He wanted to travel with us and Harry was livid and for good reason. He told Remus exactly what he thought about his 'running' away from responsibility. Harry rarely loses his temper and that night was one of the rare occasions when he lost his temper. It did not end well. Remus refused to speak to Harry after that until two days ago when the entire Order of the Phoenix arrived at the school. They made amends and in retrospect, I am glad as both Remus and Tonks died.

"I believe they want to build a memorial at Hogwarts dedicated to those who died," says Mr Weasley as he folds and sets his paper aside. I glance at Harry to gauge his reaction, but his expression is unreadable. When his response is not forthcoming, Mr Weasley excuses himself. Without releasing my hand, he sits down and tugs my hand, drawing me onto his lap. I tuck my head beneath his chin and curl into him.

"I think that is a thoughtful gesture," I murmur wondering what on earth he is thinking about.

He tightens his arms around me. "It is. It's just that many names are going to go onto it. Most of them, kids. It just doesn't seem fair."

Kids? It's clear he does not regard himself as a kid even though he is seventeen, with his eighteenth birthday only a couple of months away.

"We've been forced to grow up far too quickly," he continues, "and I don't want any children we may have to experience that."

Sighing softly, I curl my hand around the nape of his neck and I play with the soft skin there. His comment has thrown my for a loop and I need to gather my thoughts. He speaks as if we are going to have children, yet we have yet to verbalise our feelings for each other. They are there, simmering beneath the surface with neither of us willing to go there just yet.

"Don't think so far ahead, Harry. We have to take each day as it comes."

He presses his hand against my cheek, "Hermione, I-"

Mrs Weasley comes in and says, "Harry. Hermione. We could do with some assistance in with the dishes."

"We'll be right there, Mrs Weasley," says Harry as he continues staring at me with those beautiful green eyes. A million emotions seem to flicker in them.

I get the sense he has more to say, but he doesn't have the words, so I break the silence, "I think we should assist them."

He nods and I gracefully remove myself from his lap. He gets up and as I walk past him, he catches my hand and once again interlocks our fingers. I smile inwardly about this. I could definitely get used to the way his hand fits over mine, providing me with the warmth and security I know we both need.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi Everyone,

Welcome to Chapter 03 of my Fanfiction, A New Beginning. I would like to thank all of those for the positive feedback. I really appreciate it. I hope you will enjoy the following chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

As always a big thank you to JK Rowling for creating a wonderful world of characters.

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**Chapter 03**

When I walk into Ginny's bedroom with a towel wrapped around my head after a refreshing shower, all the lights are off. It's deliberate on her part and I scowl. She knows it takes ages to dry my hair when the lights are on and now it is going to take far longer than I anticipated...and I don't have my wand with me either so I can't even cast Lumos to give me some light.

Somehow I find my way to my bed and I slowly ease onto it. It just doesn't seem fair that she is pissed off with me, but my logic says it is justified. To her, I'm just a girl who stole her 'boyfriend' even though she wasn't 'actually' together with Harry. She only liked to think so.

I sigh in frustration when I realise I forgot to grab my hairbrush from the vanity. Now I have to re-negotiate my way through the dark to retrieve it. As I ponder this and how to brush my hair without a mirror, I suppose I could use the bathroom...if it were not currently occupied by Ron... Everyone knows he likes to take long showers and I don't want to wait.

I cannot seem to shake off the way his eyes roamed my body when I found him leaning casually against the wall awaiting his turn. It freaked me out mainly because of the light pink camisole and cotton pants I am using as my pajamas. They hug my figure and show off my small breasts and the way his eyes roamed freaked me out. If it were Harry, I wouldn't mind, but with Ron, it made me very uncomfortable and I couldn't wait to disappear into the sanctuary of Ginny's bedroom, even if it was and certainly is unwelcome.

Pushing that unpleasant thought aside, I find my way to the vanity and I blindly feel around for my brush. I hope it is here, otherwise Ginny is going to get more than she bargained for. I swear she's watching me, no doubt with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

"You know," I say out loud, "Some people are so immature. You told me to grow up, but in all honesty it is you who needs to grow up." Feeling a bit better about my observation, I climb onto the bed, with my brush firmly in hand and I start brushing the knots out of my bushy hair.

I try to think of pleasant things, but Bellatrix's evil face is starting to dominate my thoughts. And being in the dark, does nothing to my tightly wound nerves. I was okay a minute ago, but the fear is clawing its way back into my thoughts and every fibre of my being. Feelings of panic are returning with a vengeance and to distract myself, I furiously pull the brush through my hair while I think of something, anything to keep my thoughts and feelings of fear and panic aside. Nothing comes to mind, so I turn my thoughts to Harry and the kiss we shared earlier today. My cheeks grow hot when I recall the way his mouth felt and tasted on mine. I recall the silkiness of his hair between my fingertips and the welcome weight of his body on mine.

"How did you do it, Hermione? How did you attract his attention?"

I pause, mid-brush and give Ginny's form a sidelong glance. So, after all this, she is still awake and I cannot ignore the unexpected flare of annoyance while I regard her. She's awake and I am sitting in the dark, like a fool, brushing my hair by the dim light provided by the moon.

"I mean, you told me to play the field, which I did-"

"Too well, Ginny. You went too far and you know it."

I continue brushing my hair as if she hasn't spoken, and I hear the rustling of her sheet as she sits up, but I keep my eyes firmly on the wall opposite me.

"Or was playing the field, the reason to get your claws into him?" she asks. I suppress my sigh and I turn towards her. Her face is in shadow, which is just as well because I don't want to see her face.

"I never got my claws into him, as you so aptly described. It was not something we planned. We've always been good friends," I pause. If I don't bite my tongue, I am going to admit my feelings for him and I don't want that. I want him to be the first to know my true nature of feelings...which brings me back to what he wanted to say to me earlier before we were interrupted.

"It's not fair. For years, you've known how I feel about him, yet-"

"Yet what, Ginny? Instead of beating around the bush, why don't you just spit it out?" I snap as I am well and truly annoyed with her. First she expects me to brush my hair in the dark and second, she has the audacity to lay the guilt trip on me. How can it be my fault for falling in love with my best friend? It's not as I went out of my way to hurt her. It's not my fault, we have always shared a connection. He has always been there for me. What is wrong with falling in love with my best friend?

"How did I not see it?" she whispers softly.

I hesitate. "I…I don't know. Like I said it was not something we planned, therefore," I pause and decide I've said enough. Turning my back on her, I place the towel at the foot of the bed and I set my brush aside. My hair is not completely dry and to have it cut and styled short sounds more and more appealing. It's going to be an unmanageable mess in the morning.

"Goodnight, Ginny," I murmur as I pull the sheet right up to my neck. I hope I'll be able to sleep tonight, but the fear is clawing at my chest again and once again, I turn my thoughts to Harry in the attic above us. It would be so easy to sneak up to his room and I want to do that, but I restrain myself. Sometimes others cannot fight my battles for me and now is one of those times. I am going to have a very long night.

I bolt upright, with my hands clutching tightly to my sheet, and with my mouth open in a silent scream. I wildly cast about trying to remember where I am and I start panicking when I don't recognise where I am. It feels as if I am trapped in a horrible nightmare, with Bellatrix torturing me with the Cruciatus Curse. The pain of it courses through my body, bringing tears to my eyes. Everywhere I turn I see her evil face and coal black eyes as she hovers over me taking sadistic delight it torturing me to the brink of madness. I feel as if I am going mad and I don't know how to control the suffocating fear and rising bile threatening to choke the life out of me.

A light is turned on and I recoil back against my pillows as I don't know what to expect. I close my eyes so that I can regain my bearings, but her face flashes through my mind and I force my eyes open so that I cannot see her, yet the imprint of her face lingers, threatening to force me over the edge.

"Hermione?"

His voice…His soft and soothing voice is like a balm to my fragile soul. His hand on my shoulder is warm and comforting as he gently turns me towards him. My vision slowly clears as does the swirling fog in my head allowing me to slowly regain my senses.

"Hermione?"

I am unable to speak while I focus on his beautiful warm green eyes and his tousled jet black hair. I am amazed at the clarity of his features. He pushes his glasses back onto his nose and he offers me a soft smile and it's just too much. I fling my arms around him and cling to him for dear life. He says absolutely nothing to me as he gently lifts me into his arms.

"Harry-" ventures Ginny. "My Mum-"

"What, Ginny? Does not approve? I couldn't care less about that, not when she needs me," he says softly.

"Why her and not me?" she asks, barely hiding the pain in her voice.

He lets out a patient sigh as if he is well and truly exasperated with her. "Now is not the time to discuss this, Ginny. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to take care of her."

"When will be the time, if not now?" she asks.

"Ginny," he sighs. "Not now. Please excuse me."

He walks out before she can reply. All I hear is the bang of her bedroom door as she slams it shut. Being as quiet as he possibly can, he climbs the stairs, and dodges the one we know will squeak if he steps on it. By the time we step onto the landing, the tears are streaming down my cheeks and my wrist is throbbing madly as if someone has repeatedly stabbed a sharp object into the flesh.

"Just relax," he says in that same soothing voice that eases my fears and calms my rapidly beating heart. It is in this moment I become aware of the warmth and strength of his arms and I blush in spite of it all. As I regard him from beneath my lashes, his mouth turns up into a knowing smile as if he is aware of the effect he has on me. Heat rushes to my cheeks and I start squirming in his arms. He pauses by his bedroom door and asks, "Would you like me to put you down?"

Swallowing hard, I shake my head as I don't think I'd be able to stand on my own two feet even if I tried. Smirking at me, as if he knows what's going through my head, he gently eases me back onto my feet. My legs feel as if they want to give in and I quickly reach for his arm to keep my balance. I don't need to make a bigger fool of myself by tripping in front of him.

"I...You are so mean. You didn't even give me a chance to reply, Harry."

He smiles sheepishly at me and I can't help grinning at him. My earlier fears seemingly have disappeared. In fact, I realise, they disappeared as soon as he touched me.

"Are you disappointed?"

His expression is classic. He is being coy and brave all at once and I love it, yet as he stares intently at me, I can't help feeling shy. It's like we've crossed an invisible line without realising it.

"Are you?" I smirk as I feel around for the doorknob.

He folds his arms and studies me for a moment... "Well, it depends."

The door clicks open. "On what?" I can't resist asking as I step into the room. Feeling extremely courageous, I grab his hand and pull him towards me. I slip my arms around his neck as he quietly closes the door behind him. He grins at me as if he has achieved something great..and I gracefully move away from him.

"Herm-" he protests as he tries drawing me towards him. Waggling my finger at him, I shake my head. Turning my back on him, I deliberately sashay towards his comfortable-looking bed and I sit down. I give his room a cursory glance. I become aware of his sandalwood scent wafting up from the bedding and it tantalises my senses. His room is about the same size as Ginny's, except his clothes are strewn all over the place. He has always been untidy and it makes me smile. I pat the spot next to me and he saunters towards me. I just see his chest hair peeking through his grey vest. As he approaches, I take in his well-developed chest and arms. I roam my eyes to his legs and I suck in air. His thighs are also well-developed. Forcing my eyes upwards, I linger too long on the bulge beneath his black jocks. My cheeks and ears grow hot and my breasts stand at attention. I cross my arms so that he does not see what he does to me, however he drops in front of me and uncrosses my arms. I feel so exposed and vulnerable under his intense scrutiny and it doesn't help matters that I'm wearing a camisole...with no bra beneath it. As I watch, he reaches up and lightly touches me.

"Harry, please...I-"

"Hermione," he whispers as his hands cup my face and pull me towards him. I utter a surprised gasp as he lightly presses his lips to mine in a tender kiss. I clench my hands into tight fists as he coaxes my mouth to open and they do. As he darts his tongue into my mouth, a soft sigh escapes me and my hands relax enough for me to press them against his chest. It would seem I want to push him away, but I don't. My hands move upwards and curl around his shoulders as he slips his hand around to the small of my back. Without realising it and without breaking our kiss, we move further onto the bed. As he lays me down, my hair fans out behind me and he stifles a sigh.

"You are beautiful," he murmurs as I gently pluck his glasses from his face. I set them aside on the bedside table.

"That's better. Now I do see you," I whisper as I draw him in for another kiss. This time, he moans softly as I gently explore his mouth. I love the way he feels. I love the way his body feels on top of mine. My hands drift from his hair to his back and they drift southwards until the hem of his vest. His expression is dark and alluring as I tug it upwards. I want it off as I want to feel his skin against mine.

"Hermione," he whispers as he reluctantly breaks our kiss. "Wait."

I pause, not quite understanding what the problem is until he sits back on his legs. As I watch his face, I burn with shame.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to feel you," I whisper.

"I know, and so you shall, on condition that if you start feeling uncomfortable, you are to tell me... We are both young. We've been to hell and back again...several times and I don't want you to feel I'm taking advantage of you..."

"You won't be taking advantage of me. How can you say that when I...when I..." I look away trying to decide the best way to approach this.

He grabs my hand and presses it over his heart. "When you what, Hermione?"

"I'm in love with you," I blurt out before losing my nerve. "And being this close to you, is too much."

He regards me for a moment and laughs, "Hermione, I'm way past the _in-love-with-you_ part."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask, a bit surprised by his honesty.

"Hermione," he laughs as he stretches out next to me, "Come here."

Still feeling confused as I don't know what he meant. I snuggle into his side and I lie on his chest. He tucks his arm around me and plants a soft kiss on my forehead.

"You still haven't answered my question," I point out as I settle next to him.

He turns off the light, pulls the sheet over us and whispers, "All in good time... Now go to sleep."

Closing my eyes, I mumble, "I hope I do sleep."

"You will. Now go to sleep before I prepare a sleeping draught for you."

"No thank you," I giggle. "You aren't the best potion master around."

"Mmm," he says thoughtfully. "I was _the_ best according to Professor Slughorn."

Grabbing a pillow I sit up and laugh, "He was misled, Harry. You and that book. What happened to it anyway?" I ask, avoiding his eyes.

"I tossed it into the Room of Requirement. It was probably burnt along with the rest of the stuff when we..." He looks away and sighs, "I don't want to think about the last few days just yet."

"Then we won't. We should try to get some sleep otherwise Mrs Weasley will be all over us tomorrow," I say in trying to lighten the mood. He can be broody at the best and worst of times, but he has reason to feel like that.

"She's going to be all over us anyway when we walk out of here in the morning."

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't care. Let them think what they want. It's not as if we answer to them."

"We may think that, but she still regards us as kids. I don't feel like a kid, Hermione. I feel like an old man. After fighting for seven years... I feel as if I've lost out on what being a kid is all about...and it sucks."

"Harry," I sigh as I lie next to him, "You think too much."

He laughs softly as he playfully nudges my ribs, "I can't imagine who taught me to think so much."

"Harry!"

He rolls onto his side, "It's the truth."

"Go away," I mutter, "Before I hurt you."

He kisses my cheek. "I love you too."

I gaze at him while his words sink in, "You do?" I whisper.

"Yeah, I do. Now go to sleep before we both do something we regret."

Giggling, I can't resist asking, "Such as?"

"Hermione," he sighs.

"I want to know. You can't say something like that and them expect me to forget about it."

He let's out an exaggerated sigh. I also imagine him rolling his eyes and it makes me smile.

"Well," he says, reaching for my hand, "It might involve something like this." As the words leave his lips, he plants a featherlight kiss in the centre of my palm and I shiver. He smiles, "Or something like this," he continues as he trails kisses along my knuckles, to the inner side of my wrist where his kiss lingers.

"Okay. I get it," I yawn. "What about a real kiss?"

He looks up, grinning, "You mean like this?" he asks as presses his lips on mine. His name is on the tip of my tongue when he darts into my mouth. He cups my face between his hands as he deepens our kiss and my fingers tangle in his hair further mussing it up and the though makes me smile.

He returns my smile as he breaks our kiss, "Mmm...That is enough for now."

I stifle my disappointment when he moves away to lie next to me and I rest my head on his chest directly over his heart. I close my eyes and lapse into thoughtful silence and I realise I have no idea how he knew I needed him.

"Harry?" I venture.

"Yeah?"

"How did you know I needed you?"

He opens his eyes and regards me, "I can't explain why I felt compelled to go to you... It's almost as, somewhere deep down... I just knew. Now go to sleep, Ms Hermione Jean Granger."

"As you wish," I giggle. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he whispers, and it's not long until we both drift off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi Everyone,

Again, a huge thank you for you support and encouraging reviews. I really do appreciate it and welcome to chapter of my story. I hope you will all enjoy it.

Read and enjoy.

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**Chapter 04**

I feel his eyes on me and I gaze at him from beneath my lashes. I am horrified by his obvious sleep-deprived appearance. His hair is an unruly mess and there are dark circles around his eyes that look more concerned than usual, and I don't understand why. The last thing I remember was falling asleep in his arms with my head resting over his heart. Now he is sitting next to me looking as if he has not slept at all.

"Harry?" I barely whisper over the tight lump in my throat. Swallowing hard, he moves his hand along my left arm and closes it around my wrist. I expect to feel the warmth of his hand, but I feel nothing and I don't understand why…I force myself to break eye contact with him so that I can figure out why I can't feel his hand.

"Hermione," he says softly, sadly.

"What?" I snatch my wrist free of his hand so that I can look at it and when I see the bandage, the color drains from my face. Why is there a bandage strapped on my wrist? I search his face for the answer and he sighs.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "But you…I don't know what happened. One minute you were sleeping peacefully…The next minute you bolted upright and started clawing at your wrist. You broke the skin, Hermione and I…Well, you can see for yourself," he continues as he releases my hand and jumps to his feet. As he paces in front of me, I notice a bruise on his cheek. Did I give that to him? The thought sickens me. I jump to my feet and bolt for the door, however as I open it, he steps in front of me and places his hands on my shoulders. He tilts his head to the side. "Where do you think you are going?"

I drop my gaze to his chest…His naked chest. He must have taken off his vest. I swallow hard when I recognise the oval scar left by one of Voldemort's horcruxes. The scar is red as if it has not fully healed and I don't know why I do it, but I lift my hand and gently trace the outline with my finger.

"I can't expect you to take care of me," I whisper. "This…whatever you want to call it, is something I have to work through on my own. I can't…" With my eyes brimming with tears, I look at him. "I can't become a burden…You've been through enough."

"Hermione," he says softly as he cups my face and wipes away my tears. "You are not a burden. I will never ever think of you as a burden. I… Hermione," he whispers as he presses his forehead to mine. "I care more than you seem to realise or is this just you procrastinating?" he smirks.

"Harry," I whisper. "You are a terrible tease."

"You know I love you, right?" he murmurs as he moves his hands to my shoulders.

"Well, not really. It's not like you have said it outright," I murmur as I continue tracing his scar with my finger.

"You haven't said it outright either," he points out and I roll my eyes as I playfully push him away from me. Laughing, he grabs me around the waist as he stumbles backwards and he turns me around so quickly and pushes me up against the door and places his arms on either side of me. I forget to breathe as I take in his hooded eyes and dark expression, and it does something strange to my stomach. He looks so devil may care that I want to wrap my arms around him and kiss him senseless. The feeling in my stomach intensifies as I think about it. All I have to do is close the short distance between us and I'll be his arms, yet neither one of us moves. The temperature in the room goes up several degrees. My breathing hitches when he steps right up to me, leaving me with very little room to breathe freely and easily without sounding desperate. He lifts his hand and lightly skims my cheek while he quietly regards me. My hands are itching to thread themselves through his hair and my body is aching for his touch.

"Just kiss me," I whisper when I cannot stand the heat between us anymore.

"Hermione," he breathes as he slips his arm around my waist, bringing me flush against his naked chest. Without taking a breath, he claims my mouth in a deeply passionate kiss. I moan softly as the warmth of his tongue invades my mouth. I instinctively slip my arms around him, bringing him as close as I possibly can. He skims his hand along my side in a slow caress, until he reaches my thigh. Without meaning to, I arch towards him, eliciting a low growl from deep within his chest. He hooks my thigh, pulling me in for a very tight fit and I moan when the extent of his arousal brushes against my secret place. A secret place I want to share with him and no other. He grabs my other leg, pulls it upwards and I instinctively wrap both my legs around his hips. With our lips still joined, he turns around and walks to the bed. He breaks our kiss long enough for us to climb onto it and then he once again reclaims my mouth at the same time, he nudges my legs apart, nestling himself there, yet he doesn't take it further. He has remarkable restraint…for someone who has quite a temper, especially when angry.

His hand creeps along my thigh and beneath my camisole. His touch is like a blazing fire and as he travels upwards, it leaves a searing path in its wake. I concentrate on familiarising myself with the contours and muscles of his back and the way his skin feels beneath my fingertips. His skin is as smooth as a baby's bottom, apart from the scars he has collected over the years. My hands inch southwards to his tight ass and without thinking too much about what I am about to do, I slide them beneath his jocks. He sighs softly as he withdraws his hand and curls it around my neck. He breaks our kiss and smiles warmly at me.

"As much as I'd like to take this further, I don't think we are ready," he whispers.

"Take it further?" I laugh.

"Yeah…" he grins.

"Who said anything about taking it further? All I want is to feel you skin-to-skin, Harry. Please?"

He sits up and regards my thoughtfully while he takes in my general dishevelled appearance. I don't need anyone to tell me how I look when I feel this flustered and overwhelmed with the very strong and unfamiliar sensations coursing through my body. I regard him from beneath my lashes. His cheeks and chest are slightly red, but what catches my attention is the extent of his arousal and how he must be feeling at the moment. When I look at his too bright eyes, I realise he _wants_ to take this further and the way his jaw is clenched, there seems to be an internal struggle going on.

"Hey," I murmur as I reach for his hands. "No pressure, Harry. It's just that I feel…I don't know. So much when you are around. It is a bit difficult to separate what my heart wants from what my common sense wants. It's…so overwhelming," I sigh as I lie back on the pillows. I stretch my arms above my head and the movement causes my breasts to move. His eyes darken even more and my breathing hitches under his intense scrutiny.

Sighing softly, he sprawls himself next to me and we both stare the ceiling. "Hermione, can I share something with you?" he asks.

"Yeah. What's on your mind?"

He laughs. "You…naked and writhing beneath me."

My mouth drops open in shock and warm flush spreads like wildfire through me. "Oh my God," I barely whisper.

"Yeah," he laughs as he turns to his side.

His boldness makes me suspicious. He talks as if he has experienced someone writhing beneath him and my jealousy rears its ugly head. "If you admit to sleeping with someone else, I am going to walk out of here, Harry," I mutter.

"Well, I have," he says softly and I glare at him.

"In my dreams, actually. I have dreams about this beautiful girl with bushy brown hair and hazel eyes writhing in ecstasy beneath me…in the library back at Hogwarts." He grins wickedly at me. "The library is her favorite place in the entire world."

He cannot be talking about me? Surely not? The thought makes me all hot and flustered and curious as to how long he has had this…dream… "So, are you going to tell me how long you have had this dream?"

He lies on his back and folds his arms beneath his head while he gazes at the same speck of dirt on the ceiling we've been looking at for the last ten minutes or so.

"Well, for the last two, three years, I have had this…fantasy, but the girl has always been unobtainable because she has her eye on another guy."

"That's not true, Harry. I've had my eye on you for as long as I remember, but just like every teenager experiencing her first crush, I was confused by my attraction to both guys…Until the one guy thought it was okay to snog another girl in front of me…"

"He is an ass, Hermione. Always has been. I think I can count the times he said something kind to you on one hand. I never ever approved of the way he teased or insulted you, but I do regret not standing up for you as I should have done. I've been a terrible friend to you," he whispers. "And you have always been there for me. Even when things were difficult, I knew I could count on you to make me smile. It's been like that for the last two or three years…And you still make me smile even when you are bossy or with a nose stuck into a book. I loved that about you. You'd sit and study for hours with this happy little smile as if you were really enjoying whatever it was you were reading, even if it happened to be a school textbook. I always wondered what you were thinking about during those time when I'd sit and watch you."

"The last straw was him walking away from us, Harry. That hurt more than anything else. It was then that I knew that what I'd felt for him was nothing more but the way to show me whom I…I cared for the most."

"Yet you still kissed him," he says softly.

"I…I know and I feel awful about it. I should never have allowed it. I don't even know why it happened, but it did and I can't take it back." I sigh and close my eyes. My temples are throbbing, be it from lack of sleep or the fact that we have to tell our best friends about us.

"I'm not ready to tell them, Harry."

"Yet we cannot put off the inevitable, Hermione. If we don't tell them, it will just make it harder. I'd rather be upfront with him, then pretend that nothing is going on between us when there is so much going on between us that I can't even think straight anymore. I want you so much, it hurts. I have been hot for you for so long and I don't know how long I am going to be able to control myself."

He is hot for me. Oh my God. I think my flaming cheeks are enough to start a small fire. To cover my embarrassment, I pull the pillow over my head, so that I can cool off.

"Hey, don't go all coy on me, Hermione. After all, we nearly did cross that very thin line we've drawn between us," he points out as he removes the pillow, exposing my flushed cheeks to his all-too knowing eyes.

"You never once-" I trail off a he presses his finger to my lips.

"I know. The time was never right. He was always around. She was always around," he whispers and I realise he is referring to Ron and Ginny. My heart clenches painfully about the thought of telling them. They will either support our relationship or hate us. I don't know which is worse, but I do know we can't keep them in the dark either.

"We should wait until everything has settled down, Harry…"

"I agree," he sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. "This really sucks. It's going to kill me being the same room as you and not being able hold your hand."

I touch his cheek. "We are adults. I am not going to hide anything from them. They will just have to deal with it."

As the words leave my mouth, there is a soft knock on the door.

"Harry? Hermione? I know you are in there. Please may I come in?"

It is Mrs Weasley and it cannot be good. Why would she want to see us before everyone else is awake? It's not even six am and she wants to see us. The rest of the house will be up very soon. Harry gets up and quickly throws on his clothes and I climb beneath the cover. I snuggle into it and close my eyes as exhaustion slowly sweeps over me. I don't know how much I slept last night, but I certainly feel the need to sleep for at least two or three hours. He opens the door, and steps aside, allowing her to walk in. Her eyes sweep the bedroom and rest on me. Harry closes the door and pads barefoot back to the bed and sits down.

"Mrs Weasley," I greet her.

"Hermione," she says softly. "How's the wrist?"

I frown. "It's been better."

"Good," she smiles. "I've been worried about you. Harry was pretty upset about what you were doing to yourself."

"I was dreaming," I whisper. "I didn't know what I was doing."

"I know… Look, I cannot prevent the two of you from seeking each other out, but I must express the seriousness of the situation should things progress."

I roll my eyes and sigh. I cannot believe we are discussing this again. "Mrs Weasley, I think we are mature enough to realise the consequences if our relationship should progress and rest assured, we will be responsible."

She smiles warmly at me. "You have always been very responsible, Hermione. I honestly don't foresee any problems, but sometimes a situation can get out of control without you realising it…It is then that you must be vigilant. That is all I am saying. Now, you should come down for a spot of tea and breakfast," she says as she opens the door. She nods once and then she walks out, closing the door behind her.

"Hermione," he says softly.

"Yeah?"

"We should go to the doctor, just as a precaution," he suggests and as I regard him, I nod. I know exactly what he means. Considering what nearly happened earlier… I smile. I can't wait to experience that with him.

"Well, at least we understand each other. Now, I suggest you get up, Ms Granger. Make yourself presentable. We don't want anyone to get any ideas," he laughs.

"They already have their ideas, Harry."

Smiling, he gets up and grabs my hands. I shriek as he pulls me to my feet and then to the door. He opens it and pushes me out.

I grin like an idiot as I turn around. I smile even more seeing the amusement in his eyes. "Are you kicking me out?" I ask as I fold my arms beneath my breasts therefore pushing them up.

"I don't want them to get anymore ideas," he smirks as he eyes my cleavage and he groans. "You are killing me," he says softly as he steps up to me.

"Good," I smirk as I lean towards him with the intention of kissing him, when his eyes widen in shock at whatever he sees behind me. Unexpectedly, the hairs on the back of my neck start to prickle. I don't need to turn around to know who is there.

"Don't mind me. By all means, carry on."

My skin breaks out in gooseflesh at the animosity in his voice and it makes me want to apologise...for falling in love with his best friend.

Harry's jaw is determined as he is the first to recover. I slowly turn around, not knowing what to expect and I instinctively reach for his hand as it closes over mine.

"Good morning, Ron. Sleep well?" He tries to keep his tone of voice light, but it does nothing to the young man with fiery red hair and blue eyes standing opposite us with his hands in tight fists.

He regards us for a moment. "So what? Are you sleeping together now?"

Harry steps forward, "Even if we were, it's none of your business and for the record, it was not like that. Hermione needed me and I was there for her."

"Yeah. Outstanding moral fibre and that shit," he snaps.

I am shocked by his comment and it strikes a chord in my heart. To my surprise, I want to hurt him. "Ron, that's not fair."

"Well, there's a lot of that going around, now isn't there?" He walks past without saying another word. I stare helplessly after him and I don't understand his animosity that appears to be bordering on anger. It feels as if we are heading for an explosion.

I turn around, "I feel awful."

He frowns, "For what? For loving me? Come on, Hermione, I know you better than that."

"No...for hurting him," I whisper as I push past him, however he doesn't release my hand and I jerk backwards and straight into his arms. He reaches behind us, opens his door and takes me with him.

"Harry," I gasp when I find my voice.

"You are mine," he breathes, "And I don't want you to feel guilty for loving me."

His low tone of voice caresses me, sending delicious tingles through my body. The temptation to kiss him is overwhelming. I ball my hands into tight fists - it's all I can do to prevent myself from turning around and kissing him. His lips tease my neck, eliciting a soft moan from me.

"Harry, don't tease me," I breathe.

He ignores me as he slips his hands beneath my camisole. I suck in air and stand absolutely still as he gently fondles my breasts that are standing at attention. His touch is like a blazing and burning fire.

"Hermione," he breathes as he moves his hands away from my breasts to my hips and he gently turns me around. He cups my face, drawing me towards him for his kiss and as soon as his lips mesh with mine, I shoot my arms around him as I don't want the moment to end, but we both know it has to, otherwise it will make an already-tense situation that much more tense.

I gently break our kiss, "Harry, we should at least join them for breakfast," I whisper.

He sighs, "I know… I suppose we should join them."

"We should, but I need to be presentable," I smirk as I gracefully step away from him. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths to get my raising pulse back under control. My body is still tingling from his touch and there is this warmth radiating from the pit of my stomach.

"Yeah, you do," he smirks as he turns around and opens the door for me. "Off you go." He shoos me out and I roll my eyes at him. He is trying to get rid of me…again. As I walk past him, he winks at me and he has the audacity to smack my ass.

"Harry," I chide as I turn around.

He leans against the door, grinning at me. "Yeah?"

Shaking my head, I return his smile. "See you later…And please ensure that no-one is sitting next to you when I come down for breakfast. I don't care what Ron or Ginny think about us, but I want to sit next to you. Promise me?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I'll try, but they were hell-bent on keeping us separated last night. I can't promise anything, but I will try. Now, go and get dressed, Hermione. I am not asking you again. It's maddening seeing you dressed like that," he says softly.

Blushing slightly, I turn around and deliberately swing my hips as I walk away from him. I feel the heat of his eyes piercing my back and my entire body flushes with pleasure. He makes me feel good about myself when he looks at me, and he makes me forget about Bellatrix and what she did to me. I don't know what it is about him, but I have not thought about her since I woke up this morning. In fact, all I can think about is Harry. I walk into Ginny's bedroom, grinning like an idiot and when I don't see her, I am relieved. I don't want to confront her about Harry just yet.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi Everyone... Welcome to Chapter 5 of my story. I would like to express my thanks and gratitude to the positive reviews I've received from all my fans. I really do appreciate it.

Enjoy.

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**Chapter 0****5**

I pull the brush through my hair one last time and I squirt on my favorite perfume. I regard my reflection in the mirror and I smile. I look attractive even though I am still pale with dark circles around my eyes. At least my hair has a glossy sheen to it. I smooth my cream cashmere jersey over my hips and I make sure the sleeve covers the bandage on my left wrist. I certainly don't want anyone to ask too many questions. I eye myself one more time and I smile. My black jeans hug my hips and I can't help wondering what Harry will think…and Ron.

Scowling, I turn away. I don't like the way he tries to undress me with his eyes. It's so unbelievably uncomfortable and it is difficult to believe that up until a few months ago, I honestly thought he was the one, but when he ditched us, I realised I didn't want to get involved with him. I don't want to be involved with someone who will run when things get tough, because that is exactly what he did.

I exit the bedroom and slowly make my way towards the stairs, leading into the diningroom. Laughter and the sounds of chatter wafts up the stairs and I hesitate. I don't want to walk in there and everyone stops talking because of my presence. It would just feel awkward, but I am also hungry. I take a deep breath and tell myself to be courageous and I slowly descend the stairs. Freshly baked bread, eggs and bacon tantalises my senses causing my stomach to rumble in anticipation. I did not realise I was so famished. I can't even remember when last I ate a decent meal. During our search for horcruxes, we barely got by on the food rations we had and with two guys with enormous appetites, it was very difficult to ration everything, but we survived…barely. I think the last meal we ate was at Professor's Dumbledore's brother's home in Hogsmeade. If eating a couple of scones and drinking Butter-beer can be considered food or something wholesome.

As I step into the diningroom, I give everyone a cursory glance and I scowl when I notice Ginny and Ron sitting on either side of Harry. My temper flares and I glare at them.

"When are you two going to grow up?" I ask through clenched teeth.

Harry looks up from his plate of egg and bacon and he shakes his head.

"But…It's not fair," I point out as I glance around the table until I rest my gaze on Ron's face. His jaw is clenched as if he wants to say something. He refuses to look me in the eye and it just upsets me. I feel my eyes fill with tears. For the first time in all my years of knowing the Weaselys, I feel like an outsider. As I regard the table, I come to the shocking realisation that I don't belong and it's just not fair. I am technically an 'orphan', even though my parents are alive and well in Australia - they don't even know I exist. When I used the curse to erase their memories, I did not think it would be this difficult, but seeing them for the last time, comes rushing back and the pain hits me in my chest. Gasping, I press my hand against my chest and I will myself not to cry.

"Yeah? What about sleeping with my best friend? Do you think that is fair?" asks Ron as he gets up and folds his arms. Everyone stops what they are doing and they focus on us. This is it. It's now or never, but I cannot deal with him now.

"Harry?" I barely whisper.

"Ron," he says firmly as he gets to his feet. "If you continue making assumptions like that, you will _no_ longer have a best friend. Do not force me to choose between what is right and what is fair, considering the hurtful words you have said to Hermione over the years."

Ron blushes beet-red and he sits down, defeated, and slumps in his seat, "She was supposed to be _my_ girl, Harry. Not yours," he says quietly.

"Well, you should have thought of that before you broke her heart, Ronald… Hermione, come… I think we have overstayed our welcome," he says as he saunters towards me and as soon as he is in arm's reach, I launch myself at him. "I know, " he says softly. "I know you miss them. Why don't we get out of here for a few hours?"

"She was supposed to be mine, Harry. Why do I always come off second best, huh? You defeated Voldemort and you stole _my_ girl…"

Harry sighs and gently releases me, however he keeps his hand firmly interlocked with mine and he keeps me behind him. "I am sorry you feel that way, Ron, but it was not something either of us planned. Ginny," he says quietly. "I am truly sorry and I don't expect either of you to forgive me…I just hope you will understand in time. Mrs Weasley. Mr Weasley, thank you for offering your home to us, but I really think we should leave."

Mrs Weasley gets up and approaches us. "Where are you going to go, if not here?"

"I don't know," he sighs. "It just wouldn't feel right if we stayed here. Things are tense enough as it is."

"Are you sure about this, Harry? What about completing your seventh year at Hogwarts?" she asks as she regards us with motherly concern and I swallow hard. I will not cry. I will not cry. The lump in my throat gets tighter and tighter until I choke out a sob.

"Molly," I whisper.

"Hermione," she says softly, "I don't want you two to leave. Surely we can find a way to live harmoniously, otherwise I am going to have to give my two youngest children a talking to."

"Molly," I jerk away from him and I fly into her arms.

"I know it's difficult, but do you honestly think you are ready to leave The Burrow? It's your home for as long as you need it and if being with Harry is what you want then I don't see what the problem is."

I feel the warmth of his hand on my shoulder and I reluctantly pull away from her. As I turn towards him, he reaches for my hand and pulls me flush against him. He tightens his arms around me, enveloping me in his warmth.

"Harry," says Mrs Weasley, "Just think about it, please? I don't want either of you, especially you, young man, to do anything rash."

He laughs softly. He is known to make impulsive decisions. Another thing I love about him, except during Fifth Year when he insisted Sirius Black was in the Department of Mysteries. It turned out that Voldemort planted the idea in his head and because of his impulsiveness, he unknowingly dragged us into danger and that resulted in the death of Sirius. He blamed himself then for his death and he still does. Sirius was the closet thing to family he had and he was snatched away from him by none other than Bellatrix.

"Okay, Mrs Weasley, we will stay. At least it will gives us a chance to decide on what we really want to do and in all honesty, I don't want to unsettle Hermione more than she already is."

In spite of myself, I smile. Without a doubt, he loves me. He may not have said it in so many words, but he loves me. My arms snake around his neck and I bury my head in his chest so that no-one else can see my face.

"Mmm…So," he murmurs, "Are we going to stay?"

I am too afraid to speak, so I nod.

"Okay…Now, I really think you should eat something, even if it is cereal. You must be starving."

I pull away so that I can see his face and he smiles down at me as he uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. "I am…starving."

"Well," she laughs, "That settles it. Ginny, Ron, in the study, now. Arthur," she says firmly as she beckons to him. He folds his paper and smiles at his wife as if she is the most beautiful thing to have walked this planet. Ron and Ginny grumble loudly as they follow their parents into the study. Somehow it doesn't seem fair that she's singled them out. Harry interlocks his hand with mine and leads me back to the table. He pulls out Ron's chair and smiles as he points at it. I can't help returning his smile because of his excellent manners.

"Thank you," I whisper as I sit down. He leans over me and closes his hands over mine. He nuzzles my hair and I blush profusely. It's not as if we are alone. Bill and Fleur are sitting quietly together while George and Percy have their heads together, discussing I don't know what, but I do hear funeral and memorial, so I assume they are talking about Fred and the memorial, Mr Weasley mentioned last night and that brings me to the question of when Harry intends returning The Elder Wand to the White Tomb.

"You smell nice…Jasmine and Lilies."

"Thank you," I whisper, and he gives me a quick peck on the cheek before sitting next to me. Now that our best friends are aware that we are together, I feel slightly better, but not completely.

"So, that went well," he comments as he picks up his fork. I lean forward and push his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

"I think you should consider wearing eye-contacts," I tease as I skim my finger along his upper-arm and he starts laughing.

"Why?"

"Well, firstly, it means we won't have your glasses in the way and secondly, I get to see your eyes. Really see them, like I have never seen them before…Sometimes glasses hides a person's face, Harry."

A smile plays around his lips as he regards me, "So you think _my_ glasses - the glasses I have used for like forever - hide my handsome face?"

I playfully punch his arm. "I have known you for years and never once did I think you were vain, Mr Potter," I say with an imperious air and he snort laughs at me.

"Well now, Ms Granger, perhaps there is more to me than just the boy-who-lived…"

"The boy-who-lived has become the man-who-destroyed the Dark Lord. Just like the prophecy foretold."

"Yeah. Neither one can live while the other survives. Imagine carrying that burden and not understanding what it means?"

I lower my voice and reach across for his tightly clenched hand. "I still can't believe you were the missing piece, Harry. All the years you suffered because of your scar only to discover a piece of the Dark Lord's soul resided in your soul. It makes perfect sense you know."

"How so?" he says darkly.

"You speak Parseltongue and Defense against the Dark Arts has always been your strong point…and then the connection you always shared with him. At least you knew what he had planned or what he did at the time."

He drops his fork. It clutters to the table and he gets to his feet. "At what cost, Hermione?" he asks quietly as he folds his arms and stares past me. I watch his face and the many emotions flickering in his eyes. There is so much sadness in them and I don't quite know what to say.

"I never wanted anyone to die because of me," he whispers.

"Harry," I sigh as I get to my feet. I step up to him and I gently unfold his arms. "They died because they wanted to fight with us. Any of them could have walked away, but they didn't."

He lowers his eyes and refuses to look at me. "And the girl I love will never see her parents again because of me."

His sadness surprises me, but at the same time, it strikes a chord somewhere in my heart. "I don't blame you, Harry. I had to ensure their safety. I would rather have them safe and sound, then not at all, even if I don't exist to them anymore."

"You were so brave to do that," he says softly.

"I love my parents," I murmur. "And it kills me knowing I will never see them again." I swallow the unexpected lump in my throat and I busy myself with buttering a piece of toast. The last thing I want to think about are my parents and how much I miss them.

"You know, we could always-"

I hold up my hand and shake my head, "No, Harry. I'd rather not do that. It would just be too difficult…Can we talk about something else?"

He leans back in his chair and offers me a small smile. "Yeah, sure. We can talk about anything you want."

"When are you going to repair your wand?" I ask.

"Well, I thought today would be perfect. I thought we could spend some time outdoors, away from here. You know, just the two of us."

I laugh. "You just want an excuse to be with me," I tease and he holds up his hands in mock surrender.

"Why not, Hermione? Imagine-"

I hold up my hand and shake my head. "You keep your thoughts to yourself. I need to eat and then perhaps we can discuss it later, don't you agree?" I ask and just in time, because Ron and Ginny walk back in, looking very sheepish and ashamed. They don't even look at us when they sit down. In fact, they huddle together and stare resolutely at nothing in particular. Great. Whatever Mrs Weasley said to them has made things worse. Harry's idea of being outdoors sounds very appealing right now and because I don't want to waste anymore of the beautiful day, I wolf down my cereal, followed by a glass of orange juice.

"Mmm…Do you need to be somewhere?" he asks and I grin at him

"Yes, I do. Are you finished? I need fresh air."

He frowns while he regards his plate. "I've had my fill for now," he replies as we get to our feet. We excuse ourselves and we disappear out the back door. I take in the fresh spring air and I stretch my arms to the heavens. The sun feels good on my face. He grabs my hand and tugs me up the path, to the back of the house and he leads me to a clump of trees. I release his hand and skip ahead of him until we step into an enclosure. Ginny, Ron, Harry and I often spent time here in the warmer months. I drop to the grass and lie down so that I can enjoy the warmth of the sun heating my skin. I hear him drop next to me and then I feel him settling on top of me. Briefly I wonder if we are going to make love now, but he just stares at me, with his mouth partly open. I can just see the tip of his tongue and I curl my hand around his neck and pull him towards me. Our lips collide together, eliciting sighs from both of us. He cups my face as our kiss deepens. I thread my fingers through his hair, firmly locking him into position and my other hand roams along his back, to the hem of his shirt. I tug it up, exposing his skin so that I can caress him.

"Harry," I breathe, "Please let me feel you." I don't understand why I feel the need to feel his skin on mine, but I need it. He looks up and without breaking eye contact with me, he guides my hands to the hem of his shirt. I don't look away from him as I tug it upwards and over his head. As I reach for his hands, he grabs the bottom of my jersey and pulls it off, making my hair stand on end and he chuckles.

"I am going to miss your bushy mane of hair when you cut it short."

"I can always leave it."

He shakes his head, "I think you will look sexy as hell with short hair."

I blush at his words and I close my eyes hoping he won't see me, but the gentle pressure of his hand on my cheek, forces me to open them. "Smokin' hot? Enough to get me writhing beneath you in delicious ecstasy?" I tease.

He expels air and his eyes become hooded, "Oh my God, where is Hermione the quiet and conservative girl I've known since I was eleven? Please don't tell me you've been holding out on me?"

"Maybe," I whisper as I bring his hands back to my jersey, "Now undress me." I cannot believe what I've just said. I've always been conservative, but with Harry, I feel daring.

"Yes, Ms Granger," he says sternly as he lifts his eyebrow. He quickly divests me of my jersey and t-shirt, leaving me in my pretty pink bra.

He closes his eyes and opens them again. "You are so beautiful," he whispers as I draw him into my arms. As soon as our skin touches for the first time, I lose my train of thought and I focus on the way he feels. All I need is his kiss so I draw him towards me and I kiss him. He curls his hand around the nape of my neck while his other hand traces lazy circles on the small of my back. I cup the back of his neck to keep him in place while my free hand traces the outline of his chest. He turns to his side so that we are face-to-face and he pulls me tightly into his body. I frame his face and I stare into his eyes. At the moment they are sparkling with...humor. Something I have not seen for a very long time. Between the pain caused by his scar and his determination to destroy the Dark Lord, he hasn't had much to smile about, until now and it makes me smile, and it occurs to me that I have not asked him how he feels.

"Harry, how are you really? I mean, how do you feel?"

He squeezes his eyes shut and hangs his head. I bite my lip, thinking that perhaps I shouldn't have asked and I want to kick myself for spoiling the moment between us. All I do is curl my hands around his neck, draw him closer and I plant a soft kiss on his forehead before easing his head onto my chest. "It's okay. We don't have to talk about it."

He sighs. "It's not that, Hermione… It's just that so many innocents died. I know I should be happy that Voldemort is dead, but…I don't know. When I look at Mrs Weasley, I see the pain in her eyes, and it is far worse when I look at George, Ginny and Ron."

"Harry," I whisper as I hold him close. "It's not your fault. You can't blame yourself…" I murmur even though I know he does and there is nothing I can do to convince him otherwise. Seven long years he has fought for himself, for his friends and the entire wizarding world. Many people have died along the way. The first death he witnessed was Cedric Diggory's during the Tri-Wizard Tournament in our fourth year at Hogwarts. It was heartbreaking…I will never ever forget the pain in his eyes when Mad-Eye Moody led him away.

"Do you have any idea how much I wanted to be with you on that night when Cedric died, Harry?" I whisper. It was during that time I started thinking that I felt more for him than just brotherly love, but at the time, I just passed it off has nothing more than misplaced love and I was confused because of my growing attraction to Ron and my unexpected misplaced love for Harry.

"I blame myself for everything. Sirius died because of me. Fred, Tonks and Remus died because of me," he says fiercely as he sits up and grabs his shirt. He jumps to his feet and tugs it over his head. He grabs my clothes and drops them in my lap. "Come, let's get out of here for the rest of the day." He turns to the side and buries his head in his hands. His shoulders are shaking and I realise he is trying so hard to keep in control of his emotions. I get to my feet, feeling very disappointed about our lack of contact as I enjoyed our intimacy even if it was for a short while. I pull my shirt on followed by my jersey and when I look up, he has folded his arms across his chest and he is staring at something only he can see. Warily, I approach him and slip my arms around him, not knowing if he will push me away, however he stops shaking and he sort of relaxes into me. I feel his beating heart beneath my hands and I rest my head on his back, holding him as gently as I can.

"I still love you," I whisper. "I don't blame you for anything. It was beyond our control."

"Yeah, maybe, but still…It freaking hurts, Hermione and it doesn't help matters that my best friend hates my guts for 'stealing' you from him."

"He'll get over it, Harry, and besides you didn't 'steal' me from him as I was never his to begin with…I've always been yours," I whisper and even as I say the words, I realise the truth of them and I tighten my arms around him.

"Hermione," he murmurs as he slowly turns around. Smiling at me, he touches my cheek, "You've always been mine and some day soon, I am going to make you mine completely." His eyes darken as the words leave his mouth and a warm flush spreads throughout me warming me from the inside out.

"When will that day come?" I whisper as I step right up to him. "Because I don't know how much longer I can wait."

He tilts his head to the side and laughs softly. "Oh my God, I definitely think you have been holding out on me, Ms Granger," he half-smirks, half-smiles at me.

"You reckon?" I whisper as I reach for him.

"Yeah," he breathes as he angles toward me. His hand caresses my side before moving over my hip to the small of my back. He pulls me flush against him and I wrap my arm around his neck while I tease him. "I definitely think there is more to you than meets the eye…Now, before we cross the invisible line, let's get out of here for a few hours," he says softly as he catches my hand and interlocks his fingers with mine.

"Where would you like to go?" I whisper as I lean towards him.

"Somewhere where you and I can be alone for a few hours. Somewhere out of Ron and Ginny's sight…Come," he murmurs as he slides his hands beneath my jeans. "Perhaps I will make you mine sooner than you expect."

"I know…Why don't we go to a nightclub? Where we can dance the night away? Why don't we do something normal completely different and separate from the wizarding world?"

He raises his eyebrow, amusement flickers across his face, "A nightclub?"

"Why not? It's the school holidays?" I point out, even though I am fighting a losing battle… "Or not," I sigh when his answer is not forthcoming.

"Maybe another time," he says softly as he withdraws his hands so that he can grab mine. "Let's go to Hogsmeade," he says firmly as he leads me through the trees, along the path to the demarcated apparating spot.

"Hogsmeade? Do you think there will be others about?" I muse.

"Does it matter? At least we can be ourselves without too many unwanted eyes and," he sighs, "I don't really want to be here."

I grin at him. He wants me to himself and as I regard him, I realise I am right because he has that deeply intense look that seems to see into the depths of my soul. It is not the first time he has looked at me as if I am worth something. It makes me want to kiss him and without thinking twice about it, I throw my arms around his neck and I kiss him…long and hard until we are both breathless and in need of air, except we are reluctant to break our kiss. By this point his hands are tangled in my hair and my hands are pressed lightly against his chest.

"Okay," he breathes, "I seriously need to catch my breath," he says softly as he gently pushes me away. He reaches for my hands and we both take a few deep breaths of fresh air.

I briefly close my eyes, to gather my thoughts and emotions. He has no idea the effect he has on me and the way he looks at me is enough to make me weak at the knees. My body is a mass of tingling sensation and I don't know if I can look at him once I open my eyes.

"Hey," he says softly, "Open your eyes, beautiful."

"Harry," I murmur as I reluctantly open my eyes.

"That's better…I don't like it when you try to hide from me."

"I'm not hiding. I just don't want you to see too much."

He frowns, "Why not? Are you afraid of the way you feel about me?"

"Um…Yes, a little bit. I've never felt so strongly about someone before. It's…very new and on top of everything else and the fact that I want to…" I lower my eyes and blush… "I want to… Nevermind. Let's get out of here." _A distraction would be most welcome otherwise I am going to make a fool of myself and the last thing I want is to come over as being a silly girl with school-girl crush when what I feel is so much more._


	6. Chapter 6

Hi Everyone

I would like to thank all of you for your positive reviews and feedback and I would like to welcome you to Chapter Six of my novel.

Read and enjoy.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Please note that this chapter and the chapter to follow contain mild adult themes and language.

**DISCLAIMER**

A big thank you to JK Rowling for creating the wonderful world of Harry Potter.

* * *

**Chapter 06**

Harry and I regard each other from across the Weasley's livingroom and he winks at me. I automatically touch the heart-shaped pendant hiding beneath my clothes and I blush...profusely. He insisted on buying it for me when we were in Hogsmeade today. It is a small gold heart-shaped pendant on a fine long gold chain. At the moment the pendant is nestled between my breasts. My movement does not go by unnoticed by Ron or Ginny and by their dark expressions, they probably think we've gone all the way. Let them think what they want. I am not going to let it spoil the last hour or so before we go to bed and that _is_ what I am thinking about.

Mrs Weasley is okay with us sleeping in the same room, but not in the same bed, hence the mattress that was placed next to his bed during the course of the day. As if that's going to prevent us from sharing the same bed. The thought makes me squirm in my seat and my discomfit, if one can call it that, has not gone by unnoticed by them either. They are both passing off an unpleasant vibe and it is getting difficult to ignore. I just wish they'd speak their minds so that we can move on and away from this...childish behavior. Ron's behavior does not surprise me because he has always been a clown and always ready to crack a joke or pass a comment...and that was only when he wasn't behaving like a git, but Ginny's behavior - it's not like her to behave immaturely. I don't understand why there should be a vibe at all, considering what we've faced throughout the course of the school year.

I feel his eyes on me and I smile at him. He points to the empty spot next to him and without thinking twice about it and more to distract myself from their icy stares, I trudge towards him, shoving my hands into the pockets of my body-warmer. In spite of it being mid-summer, there is a chill on the air and the thought of a hot shower has never felt as welcoming as it does now. As I sit next to him, he reaches for my hand and moves it onto his lap. I draw my legs up and curl into his side and I rest my head on his shoulder.

"I was thinking," he whispers, "About a hot shower..."

I stifle my surprised gasp. Has he forgotten about Ron and Ginny who, by this point, are glaring at us?

"Harry," I chide.

"Yeah?"

"Don't say things like that," I reply.

"Why not? All I want is a hot shower," he smirks. "Or are you going all coy on me after what we got up to today?"

My blush deepens and I don't know where to look. I don't think I can chance looking at him, otherwise I will just throw myself at him like I did, when he gave the pendant to me. I threw myself into his arms and kissed him passionately in the middle of the street outside the jewellery store. The wizard who owns the place was very sweet to us and he informed us that he often goes out into the muggle world to buy jewellery. He said that we may be wizards and witches, but that didn't make us any less human. I liked his thoughts on the matter…until we started discussing the events at Hogwarts. He became sad, but he didn't elaborate and I didn't ask, but Harry and I agreed afterwards that he probably lost someone close to him, but when we walked out into the street, I threw my arms around him and thanked him for the pendant which he later put on while we were at the Three Broomsticks drinking butter-beer.

I vehemently shake my head.

"Got up to what?" snarls Ron from across the livingroom.

"That is none of your business, Ronald," he replies as we both look at him.

"Yeah? The fact that you refuse to be honest is enough to know that you have-"

Harry releases my hand and jumps to his feet. "If you have something to say, then by all means, go ahead."

"Yeah?" he mutters as he jumps to his feet and approaches him. I notice Ron's hands are tightly balled fists as if he has difficulty in keeping his temper under control. I recoil in my seat as he towers and tries to intimidate Harry, who will not back down. Ron is at least a head taller than Harry and at the moment he looks positively angry and ready to land a few punches, hopefully not on Harry.

"Yeah, I have lots to say, Harry… The first thing being that you stole the girl I love away from me. The second thing is that you have always known how I felt about her, but in the meantime, you have had your eye on her. The third thing being that you have led Ginny on and that does not sit well with me."

Harry clenches his hands into tight fists and the chords of his neck muscles stands out. He has a fearsome temper and I thought it would settle down after he destroyed Voldemort.

"If you love her, Ronald, then why did you treat her disrespectfully? During all the years I have known you, you have never ever said a kind word about her or to her. You took delight in hurting her….And," he lowers his eyes, "I should have done something about it."

"Harry," I whisper as I move forward in my seat so that I can hold his hand.

"Yeah, you should have" smirks Ron, "But you didn't, yet…"

"I love him," I blurt out and everyone looks at me, including Ginny whose eyes are like narrowed slits. Her color is high and her eyes are too bright as if she is holding back tears.

Ron swallows…hard, "What did you say?"

I get up, throw my shoulders back and look him directly in the eye. At one stage, I loved his blue eyes as they always sparkled with mischief, now there _is_ only pain in them. "I love him, Ron…I am sorry, but it's the truth. I love him and I have loved him for a very long time. Please don't ask me why or how because I won't be able to answer that. We just sort of fell together," I trail away.

"You kissed me back, Mione," he whispers, "You kissed me back."

I swallow hard. "I know…and I can't ever take it back. I just don't feel that way about you."

"Damn," he mutters. "I poured everything into that kiss."

"I know…And I don't expect you to ever forgive me. I just hope you will understand in time," I murmur as I walk towards him with the intention of comforting him somehow, yet he side-steps me.

"Don't touch me…," he warns as he takes another step away from me. I search his eyes and face for any sign of understanding and I don't find it. His expression is carefully guarded as if he doesn't want us to see too much, but I know he hurts. I see the pain in his eyes and that hurts like hell. I think I have just lost my best friend. I sit down, burying my head in my hands - it's all I can do to keep my emotions to myself. Why should it hurt so much when I endured six months of watching him snog Lavender Brown at every given opportunity as if he was punishing me for the interest other boys have shown in me?

He hated it when Viktor Krum took me to the Yule Ball during our fourth year. He went so far as to imply that Viktor was only interested in one thing because he was a couple of years older than me…and then there was Cormac McLaggen during sixth year - an arrogant jock who couldn't wait to get his hands on me and just to annoy Ron, I asked him to accompany me to one of Professor Slughorn's Slug Club parties, but even then he didn't care as he was too busy snogging Lavender Brown and now he has the audacity to be upset with me just because I chose Harry. _Harry_…I turn around and he extends his hand towards me.

"You aren't being fair, Ronald," I point out as I turn back to him and he visibly pales. I have never ever called him by his full name even though there were more than enough times for me to call him that, but this, _I-feel-sorry-for-myself-because-I-have-lost-my-gir l_ is starting to annoy me.

"Fair?" he spits out. "Do you think it is fair on Ginny and me to watch you ogle each other?"

"Ron," says Harry as he steps in front of me. "Leave her alone."

"Otherwise, what?" he scoffs, "Are you going to take a swing at me? Come on then. Show us what you are made of."

"No, I will not demean myself by a fist fight, Ronald. It will not change anything, so you might as well drop the act."

"Oooh…Are you afraid?" he scoffs.

"No. I just don't think this will solve anything. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to shower and then I am going to bed," he says firmly as he turns around and walks past me, however, anger contorts Ron's face and he swings his fist. I step between him and his fist connects my jaw, causing me to stagger and see stars as the pain radiates along my jaw into my head. I stare at him in open-mouthed shock and horror in my befuddled state. I don't quite understand what happened, but my jaw is throbbing madly. I force blink my eyes to clear my vision, but they close instead, only to open as I feel myself lose my footing.

"Harry," I whimper and in slow motion, he turns around and just as I am about to collapse, he gently catches me in his arms and lowers me to the floor.

"You stupid git!" yells Harry. "Why the fuck can't you behave like an adult instead of an immature school boy who cannot get his own way?"

I am momentarily shocked about his use of the 'f-word' and under normal circumstances, I would have found it funny, but my jaw is aching along with my head and the temptation to curl into a little ball and disappear forever sounds most welcoming.

"Yeah, Harry's stupid, idiotic friend," he snaps before storming out, muttering and cursing something unintelligible.

"Mione," murmurs Harry as he gently prods my swollen jaw and I smile. _Mione_ sounds so perfect when he says it that I simply have to hear it again.

"Say it again," I barely whisper as his face appears in my line of vision. I feel weird as if I am disjointed and floating above everything.

"Say what?" he frowns as he smooths my fringe back.

"What you said just now," I whisper as I fight to stay awake.

"Mione?" he murmurs and I smile even though it is painful, but he is all I need and want right now. The rest doesn't matter.

"Is she going to be alright?"

"She needs ice. Do you have ice, Ginny?" he asks.

"I think so. I'll be right back."

"Thank you…I appreciate it."

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" he grins as he gently skims his fingers along my jaw.

"Kiss me."

He shakes his head. "I don't think you are in any condition to kiss," he points out and I sigh.

"At least I tried," I whisper, finally closing my eyes.

"Not hard enough," he murmurs right against my cheek, but I don't open my eyes. I feel restful now that they are closed.

I laugh. "Hard enough? Is that the best you can do?" I tease.

"Hermione, I think you have a slight concussion," he muses and to my surprise, he actually blushes. My words have made an impact on him and I reach for his hand resting lightly on my cheek.

"Maybe, just keep your hand where it is," I murmur as I gently stroke the top of it. Beneath my fingertips, I feel the words _I must not tell lies_ and a flare of anger bursts through me. I remember how angry he was with me for reporting it to Professor McGonagall. He thought I was interfering in something I lacked the capacity to understand and he refused to speak to me for a week after that. If I think carefully, I remember feeling hurt and put out because he wasn't talking to me and the only company I had - and that was he and Ron were not doing guy things - was Ron and sometimes Ginny and that was only when she was not snogging Dean Thomas, her boyfriend at the time.

"Or," he murmurs, dropping his voice to a throaty whisper that, despite my throbbing jaw, sends a delicious tingle through my body, "Perhaps I should place it somewhere else."

Laughing, I open my eyes only to stare into an amused pair of green eyes. "And where might that be, because there is only one place I want your hand to be." I blush as soon as I've uttered the words and I mentally chide myself for being so brazen…and wanton. His eyes darken and become hooded while he thoughtfully regards me.

"You know, when you speak like that-" he pauses and a frown appears on his face.

"What? What were you going-" I start.

"Here's the ice, Harry," says Ginny as she drops next to me.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," he says.

"Anytime. Are you okay?" she asks as she eyes me with…Is that concern in her eyes? After the way she's treated me since yesterday? I don't know whether to be annoyed with her or not.

"I'll survive. I've been through worse, remember?" I point out a bit too harshly than intended and I automatically close my hand over my left wrist.

"That's not what I meant," she sighs. "I mean, I know what you went through and I am sorry she did that to you, but at least she paid with her life,"

"Thanks to your Mum," I put in and I close my eyes as soon as he touches the ice-pack to my jaw. The ice is in a plastic bag wrapped in a dish towel to take some of the chill off it but I feel it nonetheless.

An awkward silence ensues between the three of us. Each busy with their own thoughts. My thoughts drift to the events during the course of the year and my eyes fill with tears. I want my Mother. I need my Mother so that I can talk to her about my feelings for Harry, but she is out of my reach and I will never see her again and I don't think I'll attempt seeing them again either. It would be too painful to face them as they will not know who I am.

"It must be difficult," she says softly.

"What?" I ask, turning towards her.

"Everything," she replies as she gets to her feet. We both watch her walk away looking defeated as if she has lost her best friend. I am not surprised when I realise the feeling is mutual.

"Harry, we should leave as soon as possible." It's more of a statement than a question and I am not going argue with him should he be argumentative about it.

"I agree," he concedes. "We'll leave after Fred's funeral. Until then, I think we should sit tight and see what happens. Now, do you think you can stand?"

"Yes," I reply as I slowly sit up. My head is still pounding a mad staccato that is enough to drive me up the wall. He gets up, grabs my hands and pulls me all the way to my feet. He then secures his arm around my waist and we head up the stairs. I rest my head on his shoulders, half-expecting us to go to his bedroom, but he stops by the bathroom instead. As he opens the door, I become wide awake and a strange excitement starts building in the pit of my stomach. He guides me into the middle of the bathroom and he leaves me there. I hear the door click close and I slowly turn around, expecting him to be there. My excitement wanes and I let out a frustrated sigh. What can I do about it anyway? He has made it perfectly clear that he does not want to make love to me yet and that does not help the current way I feel when I want to feel him skin-to-skin and not just his torso. I want my body pinned beneath him while he makes love to me long, hard and maybe fast.

I can't believe my wayward thoughts. I should be ashamed of myself, but I am not. I have wanted him for too long and I have no intention of waiting much longer. With my jaw feeling better and a smile on my face, I turn on the taps and while it warms up, I quickly divest myself of my clothes. I step under the shower and I let out a satisfied smile. I enjoy a hot shower. I thread my fingers through my hair to ensure it becomes wet enough to wash it and I relish the tension ebbing from my shoulders. I did not realise I was so tense, until now. I gently massage my favorite jasmine and sweet-pea shampoo into my hair while my mind drifts towards the next few weeks and what they hold for all for us.

I am so deep in thought that for some reason, I stop what I am doing and I slowly turn around…and I flush when I notice Harry watching me with those too bright eyes of his. His expression is dark and there is a slight red tinge to his cheeks. Without meaning to, I roam my eyes along the length of his body…and I lean heavily against the shower wall with the water pouring over me when I rest my gaze on the very apparent erection straining beneath his jeans. I should look away, but I can't. My knees start shaking and I feel as if I am going to slide to the tiles. As I watch, he removes his shirt, his jeans and his black jocks…A low sigh escapes my lips when his erection is released from its confines. Liquid heat pools between my legs making me moan…wantonly. and he approaches with intent.

"The door?" I barely whisper.

He laughs softly. "Don't worry about the door. It is locked and no-one will hear us, I promise," he reassure me as he retrieves his wand from the counter.

"When did you?" I ask, gesturing to his wand.

"Just now. I couldn't wait. I kinda miss my wand," he explains as he carefully weighs it is in hands. A sense of relief washes across his features and I grin at him.

"Feel better?" I ask as he sets it aside.

"Yeah, but not quite. I don't think I will feel better until I have made you mine," he replies as he once again saunters towards me in all his manly glory…and he is glorious. The object of my desire is long and thick, nestled in curly black hair, except it is not nestling at the moment. It is proud and very erect and huge. I think my eyes widen and my mouth drops open the closer he gets. I am even more aware of my body's reaction - the tightness in my belly and my tingling breasts. He steps in and closes the short distance between us and I find that I can no longer wait for him. I launch into his arms and lock my hands securely around his neck at the same time our lips and bodies collide. For the first time we are naked. I feel my soft curves mold into his every hard muscle and I am tempted to wrap my legs around his hips, however his hands are caressing my buttocks, pulling me in for a very tight fit. His hard length presses into the soft flesh of my stomach, eliciting another moan from me. His mouth is hot and demanding in its exploration. His hands curl around my buttocks, lifting me enough to wrap my legs around his hips, just like I want. The extent of his arousal becomes more apparent and I arch towards him.

"Mione," he moans softly as my hands explore his upper back. He feels so strong and warm and wet due to the water raining on us, but I don't mind. I've always wondered what it feels like to make love in the shower, but never did I think I would be doing it with Harry, and the thought excites me enough to bravely reach for his erection. I gasp at the heaviness of it in my hands and the velvety way it feels, and I guide him towards him, until he touches me enough to elicit low moans from me.

"Are you sure?" he breathes.

"Are we ever certain?" I muse. "Make love to me, Harry, please?"

He laughs softly, "What do you think I am doing?"

I lean away from him and smile, "You are talking too much. I need to feel you…all of you," I whisper and I kiss him long and hard while he teases me. I feel him nudge the entrance of my innermost place and I brace myself for the pain I may experience when he slowly enters me, however he distracts me by murmuring soothing words in my ear.

"We can always stop," he whispers.

I shake my head, "I don't want you to stop. I've waited for this for too long."

"Yeah, that I understand," he murmurs as he once again presses his lips against mine. I don't know if we will make love tonight, but it doesn't matter as I want to feel him like this. I want to become one with him and to let him know my thoughts, I deepen my kiss and wrap my arms securely around him, leaving him in charge and where he goes, I will follow.


	7. Chapter 7

Hi Everyone,

As an extra treat, I have submitted Chapter Seven as a huge thank you to your positive feedback.

Again, this chapter contains mild adult themes.

Thank you.

* * *

**Chapter 07**

Sometime during the night, I wake up after a particularly bad dream and I instinctively turn towards him. I can just see his profile in the silvery light provided by the moon. His breathing is deep and even which tells me he is fast asleep and he has a look of utter contentment on his face. He looks so peaceful and happy about something because of the smile gracing his lips. His eyes are blinking rapidly because he is dreaming and it must be a happy dream because of the smile spreading across his face. Whatever he is dreaming about is definitely far better than my lingering nightmare. Scowling about the unfairness of it all and because it looks like I am not going to sleep…again, I climb out of bed and that is when I become aware of a dull throbbing ache down there. As I start walking, more like shuffling towards the couch beneath the window, I wince. I carefully sit down, drawing my legs beneath me and I peer out at the night sky. It is clear night with millions of stars flickering in the inky blackness.

Shifting slightly, I wince because of the delicious tenderness down there and my thoughts drift to the frantic lovemaking in the shower. A warm glow spreads through me because I cannot believe he made love to me in the shower…and it was perfect and everything I imagined it to be even though it was awkward and we fumbled a bit, but it was worth it. He was very gentle, yet I am tender and I don't know how I am going to look anyone in the eye in the morning. I blush just thinking about it, but I blush even more when I think back to the gentle way he claimed me. He was so gentle, I experienced very little pain and the little pain I had faded as soon as I concentrated on the fullness I felt when he was buried so deeply within me, I couldn't move…and since then I feel happier - except for now when my nightmare pulled me from my sleep. As I eye him from my seat, I realise I want to experience what we shared again. I regard him for a moment longer and I start smiling when he feels around for me and because I am not where he wants me to be, he sits up and reaches for his glasses. I love the way he looks right now. His hair is an unruly mess and he is wearing a self-satisfied smirk, which turns into a grin when he notices me. He gets up and saunters towards me only in his boxers and my eyes are drawn to what gave me, us so much pleasure earlier today.

"Hey beautiful. What are you doing sitting here all by your lonesome?" he asks as he crouches in front of me, but as soon as I look at him, I burst into tears. I can't help it. It really sucked waking up from my nightmare and her face still lingers like a permanent imprint in my head. It doesn't matter how hard I try to think of pleasant things, she always intrudes and it doesn't help matters that my scar twinges slightly every time I think of her, be it knowingly or not.

"Mione," he whispers as he grabs my hand and touches my cheek in a gentle caress leaving me with little choice but to look at him. I don't know what he sees, but his brow creases into a slight frown and he stands taking me with him. He gently wraps his arms around me and holds me until I have cried myself out. By the time the tears have dried out, his chest is damp, yet he doesn't seem to mind.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he prompts softly as his hands trace soothing circles along my upper back.

"No, but it's the same dream. I never had time to think about it, but since we've been back here," I sigh. "I don't know what to do…and I need to sleep."

"Come to bed with me, Mione. Let me love you for a little bit," he whispers and my heart thuds in my chest as his words sink in. He wants to make love to me again and because I want him to, I nod. He lifts my chin and plants a chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth before taking me by the hand and leading me back to the bed and quite unexpectedly, I feel very nervous. What if it hurts when I take him in? I am already sore and I don't know if I'll cope taking him in so soon, yet he smooths my fringe back and fusses with my hair until it hangs in soft waves around my shoulders, framing my face. When he looks at me, I lose my train of thought. His eyes are so dark and I warily lift my hands to his glasses. I like seeing him without them on as I see him as he is. He doesn't have very good eyesight, but he has told me he has no problems seeing close up, like now as he steps towards me, leaving just enough room between us so that we breathe easily, not that we are breathing easily. He smiles softly at me as he gently cups my face between his hands. I close my eyes to enjoy his light, calloused touch. I love the roughness of his hands against my soft skin. I feel him lean towards me and I watch his progress from beneath my lashes. He pauses a mere inch from my mouth and he licks his upper lip and that draws a soft sigh from me. It literally kills me when he does that and he grins broadly at me as he gently presses his lips to mine in a soft and tender kiss. I start sagging and before I lose the ability to stand on my own two feet, I shoot my arms around him and he curls his free arm around my lower back. He continues showering kisses on my face, but what I want is his mouth and if he was wearing a shirt or vest, his lips would be back on my mine, so I settle for threading my fingers through his hair. Through my camisole and pajama pants, I feel every hard muscle, including the erection begging to be freed from its constraints. His hands skim the curve of my back, finally curling around my buttocks where he pulls me in for a very tight fit and the contact elicits a soft sigh from my lips which in turns pulls a deep rumble from his chest that reverberates throughout my body right to the place where I want him the most.

"Harry," I breathe as my hands shakily hook into his boxers, "Please….This is driving me…beyond wild. I need you…now."

He laughs a low pleasing laugh that sends shivers along my spine, causing my skin to break out in gooseflesh. He withdraws his hands and moves them to the hem of my camisole and he slowly tugs it upwards and over my head, revealing my creamy, standing-at-attention breasts. My pendant rests between them, but not for much longer, it seems, is my thought as he takes my breast in hand and gently kneads it, drawing another moan from me. I grasp his chin and bring him back to my mouth and I kiss him deeply. I enjoy the way his tongue teases mine. A silent battle of wills ensues between us. The battle of our tongues has begun and there is no way I can prevent the smile from spreading across my face. His hands move to my hips, to my pajama pants and he starts pushing them off with me jiggling my hips to make it easier and each time my breasts brushes his chest, he elicits a low sigh, sometimes a moan as if he is fighting to keep control of the situation.

"Do you have any idea how wild I am for you?" he growls as I step out of my offending pants. I kick them aside and get to work on my undies. With his help, they are off in less than ten seconds.

"My turn," I smirk as I hook my fingers into his boxers and I pull them over his hips, being careful not to hurt him. I drop my gaze to the magnificent erection now standing proud and free of its confines…and I moan. I am tempted to touch him, but I want to feel him buried deeply within him.

"Now it is my turn," he smirks as he gently shoves me onto the bed. I scramble further on with him crawling after me. Once I am settled, he moves to cover me, however he hovers long enough to kiss me and leaving me with little choice but to sink back onto the pillows. As I do that, he lowers himself onto me and he nestles, right there. It draws another moan from my lips which he smothers with another kiss. I move my hands along his back, over his shoulders to his chest. He breaks our kiss, long enough to reach for my hands and he interlocks them as he gently moves them to either side of my head, leaving me exposed and vulnerable, but in a very good way. I like the way he looks at me as if am the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.

During our school years, he always had admirers, most of them females. Sometimes they'd follow him around, ogling him. One girl went so far as to smuggle chocolates laced with a love potion into his dorm which Ron ate… It would have been something to laugh about if he was not poisoned by drinking a glass of mead offered to him by Professor Slughorn after he drank the antidote, but I am not going to let that memory dampen the mood Harry and I have created, so I focus my attention on his eyes.

He lowers his mouth towards mine and captures it in a deeply passionate kiss. At the same time, he releases my hand and guides it between us. As soon as I feel the hard length of him, I close my hand over it and gently guide him to the entrance of my innermost place. I release them so that I can curl my hand around the nape of his neck. I brace myself to take him in, and he slowly, gently pushes into me ensuring I feel every wonderful inch of him. I gasp and then moan softly as he eases up to give me a chance to adjust to his size, even though my muscles are doing an excellent job of accommodating him.

"Are you…okay?" he murmurs.

"Yes…Don't stop, please?"

He laughs, "I have no intention of stopping, Mione. In fact I am just getting started. Brace yourself, my beautiful girl."

_Brace myself? He is just getting started?_ I think the temperature between us has shot up a few degrees. I get the feeling I am in for something completely different to what we experienced in the shower and by the intense way he keeps on looking at me, it is going to be even better considering the initial awkwardness between us. Thinking about our shower brings a smile to my face and he returns his smile as he trails kisses along my jawline to nibble at my earlobe.

"Harry, that tickles," I giggle.

"I know, that's why like to do that. I wonder what other delightful areas I will discover?" he muses as he pulls back to look at me.

"Harry," I whisper.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," I murmur.

He plants a soft kiss on my forehead, "I love you more," he murmurs and my heart swells with love as it is the first time he has said the words, even though I knew it already, but it's something else entirely hearing it from him.

"Harry," I whisper as I slip my arms around him, holding him close.

"Mione," he murmurs, "I am going to move now," he whispers and I nod. I tighten my arms around him, bracing myself for the pleasure he is going to give to me. He gently kisses me as he begins to move, and I moan softly. He breaks our kiss, locking our eyes together. His eyes do not leave mine as he slowly moves within me. Warmth starts pooling in my stomach and millions of sensations start flowing from where we are intimately joined. I bring him back to my mouth and we share an intimate kiss and I keep him there. I don't want to lose any of his warmth.

"You are mine. All of you belongs to me," he whispers. "Say it, Mione. Say it."

"I belong to you as you belong to me," I add for good measure and he rolls his eyes at me.

"God, I love you," he murmurs and I positively beam as his words sink in. He meant every word and it makes me grin like an idiot.

"I love you more," I whisper and with that said, he captures my mouth in a deeply passionate kiss. My nightmare seems so long ago and it is because of him. He helps me forget. I don't know if that is good or bad, but whatever it is, I love him all the more because of it. As his movements increase, the tightening in my belly and innermost place worsens, but in a very good way. I feel the build up and I elicit a soft sigh at the same time, a rumble reverberates from deep within him, shaking me to my very core and I start laughing. In all my fantasies or imaginings, I never ever thought making love was quite like this. With him, it is perfect. With him, it is just the two of us and nothing else matters but the beating of our hearts.

* * *

As we descend the stairs just after seven in the morning, he interlocks his hand with mine. Now that we have crossed the line we set for ourselves, there is no need to hide anymore. I just hope that when we sit at the breakfast table, there won't be too many questions or knowing looks from the rest of the household. I am still deliciously tender and it makes me smile. After he made love to me in the early hours of the morning, I fell into a deep sleep wrapped securely in his arms and I did not wake up until just after six and because I slept better than I have in a long time, I feel rested and ready to face whatever challenges may or may not be thrown at me during the course of today. I don't know what I look like, but I know my cheeks have a slight pink tinge to them and if anything Mrs Weasley will probably realise what occurred last night, however when we step into the diningroom, everyone is silent as the Daily Prophet is passed around and my heart sinks.

Harry leads me to my chair and just like the gentleman he is, he waits for me to sit before he seats himself. I grab my serviette to distract myself from Ron's piercing blue eyes and Ginny's _I-know-what-you-did_ look. Of course she will know. She's not a virgin herself, so she will know what happened between Harry and me. I just don't know what her reaction is going to be, but it will definitely not be like Ron who is beet-red as he regards Harry and me. Scowling, I look him in the eye and I wonder what on earth I saw in him. He still has the emotional range of a teaspoon and I don't know if that will ever change. He smirks at me as if he knows what went on between his friend and me.

"Good morning, Ronald," I deliberately say his full name and it has the desired effect because he glowers at me.

"Hermione," he says politely enough, but not enough to hide the displeasure in his voice and I automatically reach for Harry's hand curled around my thigh. I turn towards him and gives me a lopsided grin that brings a smile to my face and I lace our fingers together. He proceeds to run his thumb along my knuckles while he silently regards the deadpan stare Ron is shooting our way.

"So," says George, drawing my attention, "Did you sleep well, Hermione?"

I blush without meaning to and he flashes me a goofy grin. He knows. He definitely knows what happened I last night. In fact, he looks rather amused. I think it is the first time he has smiled since we returned home a couple of days ago. He raises his eyebrow in an all-too knowing way and my blush deepens. I give Harry a sidelong glance and I scowl. His expression is carefully guarded and there is not a hint of embarrassment on his face. It's not fair. How does he keep his true feelings well and truly under control?

"I…Last night was the first time I slept so well in a very long time, George. Thank you. It was nice of you to ask," I reply while he regards me. If Fred was still alive, they'd be playing the mickey with me and deriving great satisfaction from my apparent discomfit that has now caught the attention of Mr and Mrs Weasley.

"She does look better, Molly," muses Mr Weasley. "At least she has a bit of color in her cheeks."

"Or," puts in George as he grins cheekily at me, "It is because of a certain wizard's presence."

"Shut up, George," I mutter to hide my discomfit at been put on the spot. It's not fair. Harry remains calm and collected while I am a frazzled bunch of nerves.

"If you must know, Mione slept very well last night and that is why she looks better this morning. That is all there is to it so you can stop with your innuendos, George," warns Harry.

"So, it's _Mione_ now, is it," asks George a he has a sip of his orange juice.

"So what?" I snap as I attempt getting to my feet, but Harry increases the pressure on my hand to keep my seated and I grudgingly concede as I lean back in my chair.

"Okay, George. I think that is quite enough," cuts in Mrs Weasley. "They are not children and what they do in their private time is no concern of yours," she points out as she points at the paper. "The memorial service is going to be held tomorrow at Hogwarts."

Everyone slumps in their seats including me and I rapidly blink my eyes to stem my unexpected tears. Tomorrow we say goodbye to the wizards and witches who perished in the battle against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Harry increases the pressure on my knuckles, letting me know it's okay to cry, but at the same time he is taking comfort from me. I turn towards him and the pain in his eyes is undeniable. Nothing he can say or do will bring back the dead and at the moment, he struggling to keep himself under control.

"So we will travel by port-key tomorrow morning. We will leave about about six am, so I suggest you all take it easy today," she continues as she folds the paper and sets it aside. Her expression becomes sad when she looks at George biting his lip while he tries to keep himself together. I do not want to look at Ron or Ginny, but I do and both of them staring at their half-empty plates of food. As I watch, Ron jumps up and flies out of the diningroom and by the slamming of the kitchen door, he has gone outdoors. Biting my lip, I pull my gaze from Ginny and I concentrate on my serviette. For some inexplicable reason I feel as if I am intruding on something private and the temptation to run is nearly overwhelming.

"Mione…"

I turn towards Harry, "Yes?"

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

I regard everyone for a moment, "Yes…"

"What about breakfast?" asks Mrs Weasley.

"We'll grab some toast," says Harry as we stand together. He grabs four slices of toast and hands two to me. "We won't be long. It's just that she needs fresh air."

She smiles fondly at him, "I think you are good for her, Harry. Just look at her. She can't seem to keep her eyes off you."

He slips his arm around my waist and holds me close. "We are good for each other… We will see you later."

"Alright, just don't do the disappearing act like you did yesterday. You had me worried," she teases and I smile at her. When we returned home from Hogsmeade late yesterday afternoon, she reprimanded us for disappearing like we did and she made us promise to tell her the next time we want to elsewhere. We happily agreed.

"We won't, Mrs Weasley. I just don't want you to worry about us," he says.

"I can't help it, Harry. You two are part of my family. I have to worry about you," she explains.

"Mrs Weasley," I murmur as I slip my arm around her, "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

"I know," she murmurs, "I hope he was gentle with you," she says for me alone.

"He was, so you needn't worry about that," I reassure her.

"Good, now off you go. If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"Thank you," says Harry as he gives her a friendly hug. Once they part, he slides his arm around my waist and guides me through the kitchen and out the backdoor and into the warmth of another summer day.


	8. Chapter 8

Good Evening

Welcome to Chapter 08 of my Fanfiction, A New Beginning. Once again, thank you all for your positive review. I appreciate it.

Please be advised that this scene contains mild adult themes.

Read and enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 08**

I stare at the massive memorial wall that has been erected in memoriam of those who died during the Second Wizarding War. It's difficult to believe that the very courtyard I am standing in was full of rubble and bodies strewn all over the place less than a week ago. The Professors and many volunteers have done an excellent job of rebuilding the school thus far. Another eight or so weeks to go and the school will be home to a new generation of wizards and witches. I am sure many will be returning and I don't think I am going to be one of them. As much as I'd like to complete my education, I don't want to return to Hogwarts. There are too many memories and the sadness around us as has seeped into the walls.

I cast about for Harry and I spot him chatting to Professor McGonagall and I head towards them. I have not seen Ron or Ginny since we arrived at the school a couple of hours ago. The service honoring the fallen ended about twenty minutes ago and the last I saw of them was when they were heading towards the school. By the time I reach them, Harry is upset about something and it makes me frown.

"I don't want to return as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor McGonagall."

"It's only temporary, Mr Potter. We need someone with your skill to teach the students. Surely you can understand that?"

He sighs and runs his fingers through his already-mussed up hair. He looks sexy as hell and my stomach clenches deliciously when I think about running my fingers through his hair.

"Why me, Professor?"

"Because you are suitably qualified. With Professor Snape dead, we don't have anyone to teach them," she replies. Harry immediately tenses and balls his hands into tight fists. I will never ever forget the bitter-sweet moment when Professor Snape gave Harry his memories and then asked him to look at him. I frown as Harry has not mentioned what he saw in the pensieve… Swallowing hard, I rapidly blink my eyes. I knew there was a piece of Voldemort attached to Harry's soul and when he confirmed it, I thought my heart was going to break. It meant he'd have to die in order to destroy that part of Voldemort residing in his soul. I wanted to go with him, but he said no. He said he had to do it as it was the only way to end the terror and if it meant dying to save the rest of us… He has always been noble and honorable, except Voldemort thought he was a coward and less than-honorable for running around the school looking for another horcrux while the rest of us fought for our lives.

"What about Hermione? There is no way I am leaving her, Professor," he declares and she actually smiles at us.

"I was wondering when you were going to say that, Mr Potter. Ms Granger is more than welcome to return to the school in September to resume her education."

I shake my head, "I don't know if I am going to come back and even if I did, we wouldn't be allowed to pursue our relationship. It wouldn't be ethical," I point out.

She gives me an amused grin, "Since when have you followed the rules, Ms Granger?"

"That is not the point," I sigh, "He will have to set an example… Harry, are you seriously considering this? Please don't tell me you are. I don't think," I trail off over the unexpected lump in my throat.

"Mione," he says softly as he pulls me into his arms. "Professor, I will think about it. I can't promise anymore than that. I am sorry, but Hermione needs me and I can't…We've waited too long to be together and I don't think I can let her go."

She sighs, "I suppose I can't ask anymore of you, considering your victory over the Dark Lord. You've also been through enough, but please think about it. If I have to bend the rules to get you on board with Ms Granger, then I will do so."

I have to smile about this. She clearly wants him to teach the subject and who I am to stop him if he really wants this. "Harry, what do you want?"

Grinning at me, he slides his around my waist and kisses my cheek, "I want you to become a permanent part of my life and if passing up on the very tempting offer of teaching the young generation of wizards and witches, then that is exactly what I will do."

"I am already part of your life," I tease. "But if you want to do this, then I won't stand in your way."

"But what about your education?" he asks.

I shake my head and sigh, "I don't want to come back, Harry. I want to go to a muggle university and study law."

"Ms Granger? Why?" she asks, a frown forming on her wrinkled face, "You are the brightest witch I have even been privileged to teach. Why would you-"

"Professor, I don't want this life anymore. I want a normal life without magic and I want Harry. I can't have both."

"Mione," he says softly as he regards me with so much love and concern in my eyes, "You love who you are. You have never been ashamed of being a witch. You can't change who you are."

"I love you, Harry, and if you won't support my-"

"Don't say that…If you will excuse us, Professor," he says politely.

"Of course, Mr Potter. Just think about it, please?"

"I will," he reassures her. She nods once before turning on her heel, cloak flapping behind her as she walks in the direction of the Great Hall. He regards me for a moment and when I can't stand it anymore, I burst into tears.

"Hermione," he says softly as he wraps his arms around me, "I will support you whatever decision you make. I love you and I have no intention of ever letting you go. Just…hush, sweetie," he murmurs into my hair, "And besides we don't have to discuss it now. The new term is still a long way off. Why don't we just try to find some normalcy in our lives?"

"Harry, I am sorry. You must think I am silly," I sob as I wind my arms around his neck.

He laughs, "Not at all. Your reaction is expected considering what we've been through. God knows, but I also need some normalcy, but-"

"What?" I whisper.

"Later, so what university do you want to attend?"

I pull away, smiling, "I don't know yet. I have to apply, but I don't know if I will get accepted in any of them. It's not like my education thus far has been normal. I might have to go to a normal high school for a year or more…But what do you want to talk to me about?" I frown when I ask him this. He definitely seems to be battling with something because his jaw's tightly clenched.

"In the pensieve," he sighs, "Snape's memories. It seems he and my Mother were very good friends and my father was an arrogant git just like Snape always told me."

"And-" I prompt.

"I want to dig a bit more. You know, find other information so that I can gain a better understanding of the man himself. He never hated me….He loved me, Hermione. He loved me because he loved my Mother. In the pensieve," he sighs and frowns, "He was devastated when she died….I mean, really devastated," he trails off and closes his eyes. He opens them and slowly exhales, "I guess I just need to find out for myself."

"Why is this so important to you?" I ask even though I know it is important to him.

"Because, I don't know if my father was my father," he trails off and I suddenly realise what he is trying to say and why he finds it difficult.

"You think Snape's your father?" I don't hide the incredulous tone in my voice nor the shock of his revelation and if it turns out that Snape is in fact his biological father, then I am going to have to my hands full. Harry made no secret of his dislike for the man, but then the feeling was mutual. For some reason, Snape had it in for Harry.

"What else did you see?"

"James Potter and his gang of misfits took delight in teasing Snape, Hermione. In fact, he went out of his way to make life difficult for Snape. Upon reflection, I wonder if Snape wasn't right in calling my Dad a swine." He curls his hand around his neck and blows off another sigh while he briefly looks at his feet. "I have to know, Mione. I have to know if my gut is right or wrong, and I want you to be with me."

"I am already with you," I tease.

"Yeah, I know, but I need your support on this."

"Then you have it, Harry. If you feel you need to do this, then I'm with you, but," I sigh.

"Yeah, I know. I don't want exclude him, considering we've always done everything together."

I turn towards him and run my fingers through my hair and I watch him from beneath my lashes. Harry, Ron and I have done everything together since our first year at Hogwarts and now if it is just the two of us, words and fists are going to fly and we don't want that, but Ron might not be so willing to help us. He was always game, but now I am not so sure and it would be awkward to say the least.

"We can mention it to him, but the decision will be his alone. I am not going to go behind his back as that will do more harm than good," I state.

Harry frowns and then a flash of anger crosses his features, "Yeah? Are you sure about that, Mione?" he asks as he tries to pull me towards the Great Hall, but my interest is well and truly piqued.

"What are you-"

"Let's go indoors, Mione," he replies, but I stand my ground. I may love him but it does not give him the right to tell me what to do. I laugh inwardly about this as I have always told them what do. As I watch him, his expression becomes well and truly murderous and I turn around, only to clap my hand over my mouth in shock at the scene unfolding in front of me. Ron has his arms and lips glued to none other than Lavender Brown, while Ginny helplessly looks on. She catches my eyes and makes a gagging motion with her hands. I don't know what to think or feel. Should I even feel anything? No, I don't. This is typical of Ron's behavior. He will do anything to hurt me, except this time.

"Mione?"

Harry's hand closes over mine and I turn towards him.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly.

I glance once behind me and roll my eyes. This is beyond exasperating and would be funny if he wasn't drawing a crowd of people and a fair amount of catcalling ensues. We are at a memorial service and this is how he behaves? He should be ashamed of himself. A flare of anger shoots through me at the spectacle he is making of himself. I wonder who made the move this time. Last time, she made the move. It was after a successful Quidditch match where he played extremely well. We were all in the Gryffindor Common Room and I was lecturing Harry about using Felix Felicis - a liquid luck potion in Ron's pumpkin juice - when in actual fact, he did well because he thought he had being given some of the potion. While we chatting about it and the Confundus Jinx I used on Cormac McLaggen to ensure Ron was accepted into the team - yeah I was that crazy about him - Lavender locked lips with him and they engaged in a passionate kiss in front of our school mates. I remember feeling absolutely crushed about what I'd just witnessed. I walked out, in tears and Harry found me sitting on the stairs sobbing my heart out. He comforted me and admitted he felt like this whenever he saw Ginny with another boy.

Turning towards him, I nod and smile. "Yes, I am. I can't believe he is doing this again, Harry. What is he trying to do?"

He tilts his head to the side and grins cheekily at me, "I think, Mione, that he is trying to get a reaction from you."

"Clearly," I sigh, "But guess what?"

"It's not working?" he states and I start laughing.

"Surprisingly, it is not working. Yay. I've been well and truly cured," I chuckle as I link arms with him. "Let's pay our respects to Professor Dumbledore."

"Do you mean that, Mione? Are you sure you don't feel an inkling?" he asks softly.

I shake my head, "I don't feel anything, Harry. Stop worrying and stop frowning," I tease as I brush his fringe back, revealing his lightning-bolt scar. I stretch towards him and plant a soft kiss on it.

"Mione," he sighs and as I step back, I notice his darkening eyes and a bolt of lightning shoots through me. He enjoyed that and I grin like an idiot.

"Harry?" I murmur as I trail my fingers along his jawline to his lips and he blows off air. He is definitely affected and I can't help feeling triumphant about that. Tonight he is in for something else. Tonight, I decide, I am going to make love to him. The thought does delicious things to me and I blush.

"You know," I murmur, "Are you up to play out your library fantasy?"

He blushes beet-red, "Hermione Granger…Oh my God," he breathes as he quickly provides distance between us, but not far enough to release my hand. He regards me up and down for a full minute before stepping up to me.

"I can't believe you've just said…Damn it, Mione. You have no idea," he trails off as I slip my arms around his neck and suggestively grind my hips.

"I think I do," I breathe when I feel the extent of his arousal and I blush. I can't believe my boldness and audacity of suggesting such a thing to him, but his reaction is exactly what I wanted and if we were not in the company of so many others, I would kiss him senseless, but common sense prevails and I provide distance between us. I still have my pride and I am not going to hurt it by behaving like Ron and Lavender, so I gently grab his hand and lead him towards the Great Hall. His hand is firm and warm in mine and I love the way he moves his thumb along my knuckles, sending shivers along my spine. I don't have to look at him to know he is enjoying himself. As we walk through the doors, he tugs me into corner where we are partially hidden by one of the many gargoyle statues dotted around the school. From the hall, there is a smattering of low voices, but what draws my attention is the way he presses himself into me. I feel his hands on my hips as he captures my mouth in a deeply passionate kiss that has me moaning wantonly. My hands creep up and thread themselves through his hair, locking him firmly in place as he literally devours my mouth. His one hand creeps along my side all the way to my thigh where he starts tugging up my black skirt. I want to mentally chide myself for wearing a black skirt. It makes me easily accessible and that does nothing to ease my need to be claimed by him, so I don't protest. I concentrate on the warmth of his mouth as he kisses me. I don't protest when a cold draught of air tickles me down there and I don't protest when I hear the familiar _zip_ of a zipper being pulled. I feel his hands close around my buttocks as he gently lifts me and I automatically wrap my legs around his waist. He continues kissing me as he reaches between us and painstakingly slowly pushes into me, forcing out a low moan from my lips. Thankfully he quickly smothers it with another passionate kiss.

"Oh my God," he groans as he establishes a steady rhythm. By now, my heart is hammering loudly and the blood has rushed to my head making me lose all sense of logical thought and pride. He is making love to me in the school, for God's sake, but that does not stop me from seeking out his mouth for his kiss. I feel his heart beating against my chest as we climb higher and higher.

"Harry," I groan, digging my fingers into his shoulders.

"I know," he whispers, "Wait for me, Mione."

"I am trying," I whisper in between delicious waves of pleasure. I move away from his mouth to his nose, his closes eyes and finally I press my lips on his scar.

"Mione…Now," he groans and with that said, I shatter magnificently around him and with him. I feel his jerky movements and I lean back against the wall to ride out the rest of the pleasure we give to each other. As we come down from our magnificent high, he gently cups my face and plants a tender kiss on my forehead. He is going to pull away and I don't want that. I want his warmth so I tighten my arms around him.

"Just give me a minute, please?" I rasp.

"A minute is all we have before they send out a search party," he chuckles as he cradles me his arms. I like the way we are joined. It feels so right and he feels so warm. He warms me up from the inside out.

Sighing softly and biting back my disappointment, I manage to unwrap my arms from around his shoulders. He gently withdraws, leaving a hollow and it is enough to make me cry. I hastily turn away before he sees my tears and I busy myself with neatening my hair and straightening my outfit. This really sucks and all I want somewhere quiet to go so that I can rationalise everything. It's been an emotional week. From pure bliss to profound sadness. I am the point where I don't know which way is up anymore. Without looking at him, even though his eyes are searching for something, I walk past him and out into the courtyard.

"Mione? Where are you going?" he calls after me and I sigh softly as I turn around to look at him. His hair is mussed up and his cheeks are slightly red. He is still trying to straighten his suit and I roll my eyes in mock exasperation.

"Let me," I murmur as I catch his hands that are trying to straighten his tie. He nods. His hands slip free of mine enabling me to straighten his tie.

"What happened back there?" he asks after a moment's silence.

"I…I don't know, Harry. It's just that I feel like an emotional wreck, ready to explode."

I continue with his jacket next, however he circles me in his arms and pulls me tightly into his body and I let out a contented sigh. This is exactly where I want to be. I don't like it when we are apart.

"Then explode, Mione. Let it out. Get it out of your system," he half-jokes.

"Mmm," I whisper as I pick imaginary lint off his jacket, "It's easier said than done," I muse as I finally meet his probing green gaze. He tenderly touches my cheek before pressing his lips to my forehead.

"You know what I think?" he asks as he thoughtfully studies me.

Shrugging my shoulders, I reply, "Enlighten me."

Laughing, he places his hands on my shoulders, "You think too much, Hermione, and that is why you feel the way you do. If you just let go, like you did back there, then you wouldn't feel like this this."

"We made love in the school," I blurt before stopping myself.

He shrugs his shoulders, "So what, Mione? So what?"

"Harry," I sigh and then I smile at his amused expression. "Oh alright, I will try…Perhaps a few fire whiskeys is what I need."

"Fire whiskeys?" he grins. "That sounds like an excellent idea, but not today…Not when I need to return this," he says softly as he withdraws the Elder Wand from the bag Hagrid gave to him for his birthday. It hangs around his neck beneath his clothes. It works on the theory of an extendable charm.

I reach for his hand, "Let's do it, Harry."

He nods once before interlocking our hands together and briefly I wonder where Ron is as he should be with us to share in this, but he is nowhere to be found. He has no doubt gone off with Lavender to do know God only knows, not that I care, but I do. In spite of the tension between us, I still regard him as a friend, but he has made it perfectly clear that the feeling is not mutual and it saddens me, but that is nothing in comparison to the way I will feel when we restore the wand to its rightful place. I don't have to look at Harry to know he feels exactly the same about the task ahead.


	9. Chapter 9

Good Evening

Welcome to Chapter 09 of A New Beginning. Please be advised that this scene contains mild adult themes and mild language.

Read and enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 09**

As I walk past Ron's bedroom, the slamming of a cupboard draws my attention and I hesitantly push the door open and reluctantly step into his bedroom that has not changed in all the years I have known him. There are Chudley Cannon posters plastered haphazardly on his walls and his bed, I notice, is an untidy mess, but what draws my attention is the duffle-bag next to his bed. As I give the room a sweeping glance, my eyes settle on his back - he is only wearing a pair of jeans and socks - and I notice scratch marks. Sucking in air, I force myself to tear my gaze away from his offending back. Those scratch marks have undoubtedly been caused by a girl's fingernails…

It's been three weeks since the memorial at Hogwarts. It's been three weeks since Harry returned the Elder Wand to the White Tomb and it has been three weeks of Ron disappearing every single night to God knows where only to return as drunk as a lord in the early hours of the morning. He is not quiet about it. He slams his way through The Burrow disturbing the entire household and not really caring that he is doing it. Every morning, I have to endure his dark glances over breakfast while he attempts to recover from his hangover. Mr and Mrs Weasley are concerned about him. George just raises his eyebrows and smirks as if he knows something we don't and as for Ginny, she spends time sending owls to Dean Thomas. They have even gone out a few times. At least she comes home sober, unlike her brother….and it's been three blissful weeks of long nights and happy days for Harry and me, apart from the broody and sometimes dark moments he has mainly because of his quest to find out more about Professor Snape and his Mother…and of course, the decision he has yet to make concerning the teaching post Professor McGonagall offered him.

As for me, I am excited about the possibility of starting at Cambridge University in September. I applied and I am waiting to hear from them. I am very interested to study Law, but whether they will accept me on pure merit considering my secondary education is apart from the norm, I do not know. I can only hope they will. I have always regarded myself as intelligent and others have regard me as an insufferable know-it-all simply because I was proactive in learning as much as I can about the wizarding world. I love reading. I love studying and I am very determined by nature, but that has got me into trouble more than once. Abandoning school rules in pursuit of solving the many mysteries that came my way alongside Harry and Ron.

"What do you want, Hermione?"

My head snaps up at the animosity in Ron's voice and I recoil as if he has physically attacked me. His expression is fiery and his eyes are flashing dangerously with undisguised anger. He straightens to his full height and puffs out his chest as he saunters towards me.

"Um…I…I heard cupboard doors slamming. I just wanted-"

"What?" he barks as he shoves me aside to close his bedroom door and for some inexplicable reason, a sense of fear settles over me while he regards me from head to foot.

"Lost your tongue have you?" he snarls. "Knowledgeable Hermione is speechless for once in her fucking life? Is that it?" he spits as he deliberately stalks me like a lion stalks his prey.

"Um…No. I just wanted to know what was wrong," I hastily explain even though it is a feeble explanation. I don't know what compelled me to investigate what he was doing. As my eyes flicker from his face, to his chest, I suck in air. He has a whopping love-bite in the middle of his chest in almost the exact same position as the scar left by the locket on Harry's chest.

He scowls darkly, "Nothing is wrong, Hermione. I am leaving The Burrow, but I am sure you figured that out already."

I frown, "You want to leave? Why?" I stammer while I keep my eyes firmly locked on his face while he continues his approach. My heart starts hammering as soon as he steps into my space. I panic as I cast about for a means to escape, but he has me well and truly trapped…against the wall, without me realising it. _Damn you, Ron_, flashes through my mind as well as wiping that self-satisfied smug smile from his face…

"Because," he balls his hands into tight fists and slams them into the wall next to me, "I am fucking sick and tired of answering to my parents. I want out and the sooner I leave the better."

"What, so that you can screw Lavender whenever the need arises?" I blurt without thinking about it, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I realise that he has been screwing her, hence the scratch marks on his back.

"Yeah," he smirks, "So that I can screw her to rid myself of you and your betrayal."

I glare at him, "My betrayal? My betrayal, Ronald? You were the one who ran like the coward you are….Some friend you've been to Harry, especially when he needed you the most."

"I doubt I was missed, Hermione, considering you were probably screwing him already," he says, voice laced with sarcasm and bitterness.

I straighten to my full height even though my eyes are level with his chest and I glare at him, "Of course you'd assume that. After all you have the emotional range of a teaspoon…That has not changed and I doubt it ever will." I regret the words as soon as they leave my lips. The last thing I wanted was to insult him. By this point, his look is positively murderous and deeply offended. It is enough to make me wilt beneath his glowering eyes. _His eyes_… I stare deeply into them trying to understand where I've gone so horribly wrong. It is clear he shoulders no blame whatsoever about us. As I study him, I realise he blames me completely, and that is not fair.

"You aren't being fair, Ron," I barely whisper. "I can't help the way I feel about Harry. It's not something I planned. It just happened and the last thing I wanted was to hurt you, but I doubt you'd even accept that with the grace you lack."

He sighs and softens his features, "I love you," he whispers, "And it hurts to see you with Harry. It hurts to see the happiness he brings to you. You absolutely glow and sparkle with life when he is around. I could have given that to you-" he trails off. He sighs sadly, "It doesn't matter, Mione. It really doesn't matter. There is nothing keeping me here anymore and besides, George wants me to start working in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

He loves me? Of course he does, but that does not excuse his irresponsible behavior. He is walking a very thin line and he is going to fall and when he does…I don't even want to think about that as it is not going to be pretty.

"Ron, I am sorry, but I don't feel that way about you…I never have," I trail off.

"Then why, Mione? Why did you kiss me back?" he asks softly as he makes a move to brush my fringe back, but I stiffen. Pain briefly flickers in his eyes as he hand drops to his side.

I look away, "I don't know. I guess I wanted to see if there was anything I felt for you, but there was nothing, and that is why I pushed you away. It didn't feel right, Ron. You can't force someone to love you. They either love you or they don't. There are no grey areas."

He sighs as he pushes himself away from me providing me with breathing space and I take in a deep breath hoping it will clear my head of it's unexpected confusion. As my head clears, I realise it is not confusion, it is relief. At least we know where we stand, so I gracefully step away from him and perch on the edge of his untidy bed.

"I guess I couldn't expect anything less from you considering the way I've treated you over the years," he says as he places the duffle-bag on the bed next to me. He grabs a clean tee-shirt from his cupboard and he pulls it over his head. "And yes, I have fucked her," he says more to himself than to me, but I hear it anyway and I choose not to react.

"Have you spoken to Harry at all?" I ask to move the conversation away from us and because I need time to think.

He sighs, "Yeah, but not much. Something's bothering him, Hermione."

"He was offered a teaching post at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, I figured that out myself. Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Yes."

"And-" he prompts.

"Not keen," I reply.

He smiles wryly at me, "I can't imagine why."

"I am not going back, Ron," I murmur thinking it best to be upfront with him. I can give him that much.

He crouches in front of me, so that we are eye-level, "Why not?"

"I don't want to go back…I can't… You?" I ask in an effort to move the conversation away from me as I am not prepared to discuss my reasons with him. My reasons are meant solely for Harry's ears as he is the only one who understands.

He runs his fingers through his hair and gives a tired sigh, "I don't know what I want at the moment…and I don't give a flying fuck either." He pushes himself to his feet and walks away from me.

"Your Mum will expect you and Ginny to at least complete your education…Imagine that," I muse, "You and Ginny in the same year along with Lavender if she decides to go back."

"I don't give a fuck about what my Mum wants, Hermione. I don't want to go back. At least not yet. You and Harry are not the only people affected," he pauses to pick up his jeans. He folds them neatly and places them into his bag. What a stark contrast, I think as I survey his bedroom. His bedroom is a mess yet he packs his clothes neatly.

Now it is my turn to be annoyed and I jump to my feet, "I never said or implied otherwise…" I sigh, "You know, I cannot talk to you when you are being so damn difficult and hot-headed. It's not very attractive."

"Yeah well, perhaps it is better this way," he smirks. Sighing loudly, I stalk towards the door and open it, "I think you are the sexiest thing alive, especially when you are pissed off. Sex on two legs. How does he like it, Hermione? Do you fuck or make love?"

My temper flares and my blood pressure shoots through the roof making my head spin. How dare he speak so disrespectfully to me? As I whirl around, I am shoved aside. Gasping and muttering my displeasure about the offending person…Oh I know who it is. I catch a whiff of his deodorant. I turn around just has his fist connects with Ron's jaw, sending him sprawling backwards.

"Don't you ever speak to Hermione like that again, Ronald!" Harry roars as he flexes his hand which undoubtedly will swell up later because of the impact. "She deserves better than you can ever give to her." He goes in again, but once again I am shoved aside by George and Percy as they rush in and grab Harry around the waist and shoulders to pull him off Ron. I lean against the wall willing myself to calm down. I briefly wonder when they came up the stairs, but that is pushed to the back of my mind when Harry shrugs free of the bigger boys. He glares at Ron, nursing his jaw and bloody nose before casting about for me and when he finds me, he walks towards me and grabs my hand, pulling me out of the room, down the stairs and out into the early afternoon sun. Wordlessly, we walk along the path and we disapparate. A rushing sound fills my head and I feel as if I am falling…and falling and then I do land on something soft that lets out a muffled _oomph_. A muffled oomph that quickly wraps their arms around me and rolls, trapping me securely beneath his body.

"Shit, are you okay?" he asks as he tucks a lose tendril of hair behind my ear. I am…dazed to say the least and he is like my knight in shining armor. All bold and daring with his glasses askew and mussed up jet black hair. He winces and that springs me to action, sort of. I reach for his hand and I sigh… As I predicted, it is swollen and bruised. Without thinking too much about what I am doing or where we are, I graze my lips along his hand, being mindful to be gentle as I don't want to hurt him.

"Are you trying to be hero?" I tease as I study his face.

He laughs, "I am a hero, Hermione. I defeated the Dark Lord and was once the-boy-who-lived and the Chosen One."

He is attempting to be arrogant, but he does not have an arrogant bone in his body. He is too good, too kind and compassionate for that. I lift my hand to touch his cheek and sighing softly, he leans into my touch.

"Mmm," I consider what I am going to say next, "Doesn't that make me a hero as well?"

He considers his answer thoughtfully before he replies, and while he thinks about his answer, I look up and for the first time, I notice trees and we are lying in what appears to be a meadow or something like that. There are birds chirping ahead. Bees buzzing around us and there butterflies fluttering about. I release his hand so that I can stretch my arms and I let out a contented sigh feeling the soft grass beneath the back of my hands and I close my eyes to take in the scents and sounds of spring and the new beginning it promises to bring for everyone. My tension slowly fades, instilling a sense of peace and contentment within me. Now this is what I want all the time. To be with Harry in a place like this. Just the two of us. No disapproving glances. Just Harry and me in a world of our own.

He moves on top of me, but I don't open my eyes. I like his weight on top of me. It's comfortable and warm and right now, I don't want to move. He moves again and I watch him from beneath my lashes. He is removing his shirt, exposing his chest to me. His very fair chest, with a fine smattering of jet-black hair around his nipples, along his breastbone, running over his belly-button and disappearing into his jeans. Lazily, I reach for his belt to loosen it. He sits back on his legs, waiting for me to complete my task while he deliberately stretches his arms above his head.

"It's lovely here, don't you think?" he muses and at that moment I become aware of the sounds of running water not far from us.

"Where are we, Harry?" I ask, fully opening my eyes.

He smiles, "This is where my Mum and Professor Snape used to play as children. I believe my Mum's childhood home is not far from here. There is also a willow tree on the banks of a small lake… I believe they still came here when they were at Hogwarts."

"Why is this so important to you? Is it not enough to know that Professor Snape loved your Mum therefore loving you in turn?"

He shakes his head, "No…. Hermione," he sighs as he settles himself on top of me, enabling me to hang my arms loosely around his neck. I love being this close to him.

"There are so many missing gaps and I need to know the truth. Why did she choose my father over and above the man she clearly loved?"

"Harry, Snape was into dark magic. He was one of Voldemort's death eaters and trusted followers. It's perfectly clear as to why she chose your father….Sometimes loving someone is not enough especially when darkness taints what's supposed to be pure…And it is not just that, you might not like what you find if you dig more than you should. Perhaps you should let it slide…Just let this go, Harry. Please? We don't want to re-open old wounds and cause new ones in the process."

He clenches his hand into a fist and slams it into the grass next to me, "I can't let it go, Mione. Otherwise I will-"

I press my fingers to his lips, "Or what? Go it alone? Come on, Harry. Surely you know that I will stick by you no matter where our paths may lead? Oh," I chuckle when pain flickers in his eyes, "That was your bruised wrist you just slammed into the grass."

"Shut up," he growls as he protectively cradles it and then he smirks, "You can make it better, Mione. Kiss it," he commands and I stifle my exasperated sigh. In the bedroom he has all the control. It is the way he wants it, but for once I am going to show him who is really in charge.

I muster as much annoyance as I possibly can into my voice, knowing he will see right through me, "Kiss it yourself."

He scowls at me and then hangs his head and gives me that I feel so sorry for myself look. It reminds me of a puppy when it wants attention. All big-eyed and cute and irresistible. There is no way I can resist him even if I tried really hard. He has got me well and truly under his thumb and he is well and truly under my skin and he smirks…Yes, he knows exactly what's going through my mind and if he was still wearing his shirt, his lips would be well and truly meshed with mine, but as it is, I have nothing to pull him towards me, so I settle on waiting for him to make a move, because he is going to. If not right now, then shortly as he cannot hide the obvious effect I have on him.

"Damn it," he mutters as he grasps my face in his hands and his lips crash towards mine, eliciting a soft and surprised gasp from me at the ferocity of his kiss. He is beyond controlling himself, coupled with his anger about Ron's accusations, he is in a foul mood and I am in for a hard time, no pun intended.

"Wait," I whisper.

"I can't," he growls.

"Yes, you can, Harry. Now wait. You can't always have the pleasure," I mutter.

"And why is that?" he smirks.

"Well," a slow grin spreads across my face, "I have this fantasy."

This catches his attention because he looks at me and regards me with interest, "Yeah?"

"Of sitting astride the Chosen One and riding him into oblivion," I blush as the words leave my lips, but it is too late to retract them.

He growls as he grudgingly rolls off me and onto his back. I smile sweetly at him as I go to work to rid him of his jeans and undies and I am surprised by the longing and excitement pooling in my belly.

"But I never thought it would be here," I continue as I peel off his jeans, exposing the object of my desire, along with his thighs and then his calves. Finally I reach his feet and with a sharp tug, I pull them off. I then proceed with his jocks while he watches me with hooded eyes. By the time his jocks are off, he is fully aroused and my innermost muscles clench deliciously at the thought of impaling myself on him. Oh my God, impaling myself? Oh Hermione, how far you have fallen, I silently muse as I sit back on his thighs, away from temptation. I remove my hair-band and run my fingers through my hair until it cascades around my shoulders. Oh, I am going to miss my long hair when I have it cut short next week.

He reaches up to fondle my hair as he likes to do that, however, I smack his hand away, "I am in charge, Mr Potter and you will do exactly as I say. Is that clear?" I ask in my bossiest tone of voice.

"Oh my God, Mione, you are killing me…You really are," he laughs as he forces his hands to stay alongside him.

"Good," I smirk, "You can't have all the pleasure, you know," I tease as I tug my tee-shirt upwards and over my head. I give my lovely locks another run through with my fingers before reaching around to unhook my pink lace bra. His eyes widen as my breasts are exposed, ready and wanting and desperate for his touch, but I am in charge. I am calling the shots today.

"Don't," I caution and he elicits a long sigh. I know he loves fondling my breasts. In fact, he lavishes so much attention on them sometimes, that he neglects other parts of me.

"I think I have died and gone to heaven," he muses as he winks at me and that sends a delicious tingle along my spine to my already aching centre, but I will persevere. All I need to do is remove my offending jeans and lace undies, but in order to do that, I have to stand up and I do so…with great reluctance. I take my time in removing the rest of my clothes and as I do so, I do not break eye contact with the man watching me with undisguised desire in the deep green of his eyes.

"Hermione, please? I need you," he murmurs as he reaches for me as I lower myself onto him…Unexpectedly, my courage has all but left me. I don't know if this is going to be painful or not. We have never made love any other way before as I prefer him to take the lead. Biting my lip, I focus on his face to distract myself from inner nervousness.

"Don't bite your lip," he groans as he locks his hands around my waist. I hover above him. In fact I feel the tip of him brushing the entrance to my innermost place and it draws a shuddering breath from my lips.

"I can't help it. I'm nervous," I whisper.

He smiles, "Don't be. It's just you and me, Mione. Focus on me, sweetie," he says softly and I roll my eyes.

"You really should cut that out," I tease.

"Well, it is the only way I can get you to comply…sweetie," he adds as he winks at me.

"Oh shut up, Mr Potter," I giggle as I reach between us. His hands are gently clasping my hips. It is up to me to do the rest. Okay, this is good. It means I can take my time, but I don't want to take my time. I've extended this long enough and we are both not going to last if I drag it out any longer.

"It's just you and me, Mione," he breathes as I slowly sink…Oh my God. My eyes close and I moan loudly. This feels wonderful and without hesitating, I slowly sink onto him, savoring every delicious inch of him. I all but cry out when he readjusts his position to ease my slight discomfit.

"Oh God," I whimper as I sit there, readjusting to this very pleasurable and enjoyable position. I never thought it would be like this and the fact we are God knows where, makes it perfect, more so than my fantasy.

"Okay," he murmurs, the strain in his voice is there. He will not be able to control himself that much longer if I just sit here dumbfounded and enjoying this experience, so I slowly rock my hips.

"God," I whisper. This is going to be intense. It feels as if my emotions are stretched to breaking point and I love the absolute fullness he gives to me. I love it and keeping that in my mind, I slowly increase my pace and then he starts matching the rhythm I've set for us. He reaches up and gently tugs me towards him. I don't object as I want physical contact with him and the added bonus is that I can kiss him.

"Mione," he whispers as his stomach muscles contract.

"Wait…Wait for me, Harry," I barely whisper.

"I have to-"

My innermost muscles clench tightly around him, hastening my pleasure and I cry out at the same time he murmurs a garbled version of my name. I close my eyes as intense waves of pleasure radiate throughout me, milking him for all his worth and he tightens his arms around me and quickly rolls without breaking our connection where he continues moving. God, it is so intense. I am going to explode again and so is he. I desperately bring him back to my lips and kiss him. His mouth is hot and demanding as our kiss intensifies and again, I feel the pressure.

"Oh God, Harry," I whimper.

"Let. It. Go. Mione," he whispers. I don't need to be told twice and the pleasure rocks through me, shattering the very foundations of my body and soul. I feel his warmth spreading within me, leaving a buzz in its wake. He collapses onto my chest and I hold him while we ride out the rest of our magnificent pleasure. Tiny waves of pleasure radiate throughout me and around him buried deeply within me. I hope he is not going to move, otherwise I am going to lose all sense of self, but he does.

"Harry," I whisper, but he ignores me as he starts moving. I cannot believe it. He is not finished with me. I can barely move. I just want to go to sleep. My body starts reacting before I realise it and I bite down on his shoulder without meaning to, drawing a rumble from deep within in his chest. I tighten my arms and legs around his waist as his movements become desperate and hard.

"Harder," I blurt.

"Hermione, you are insatiable," he murmurs, but he complies. I throw my head back and try my best not to scream. It comes out as a squeak, which serves to amuse him.

"Shut up," I tease as the pressure begins to build…for the third time in half-an-hour and he seals his mouth over mine and I cling to him for dear life for what is going to be another intensely pleasurable experience for both of us.


	10. Chapter 10

Good Evening

Welcome to Chapter 10 of A New Beginning.

Read and enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

I gaze at the beautiful lake before us with long willow leaves skimming the surface of the water. There is a slight breeze in the air and it smells of summer. Yes, summer is definitely here and it fills my heart with gladness. I will be celebrating my nineteenth birthday in September and I briefly wonder where we will be, because I certainly will not be returning to Hogwarts on the first of September, but my birthday is the furthest thing from my mind as I am wondering what Harry is thinking about. He stands a short distance away from me and he staring off into the distance as if being here will make him understand his Mum's involvement with Professor Snape. It really is beautiful though and I could stay here forever, but it getting late and I wonder if and when he will decide it's time go home.

Scowling, I bend and retrieve a stone and with all my strength, I angle it so that it skims the surface of the lake. The Burrow is the last place I want to be right now as too many question are going to be asked and because Ron will not be there when we do decide to go home, and I don't know what to make of that. I don't even know if Harry is aware that his best friend is moving out. For six years we've had a solid friendship and now that the war is over, everything is falling apart and it saddens me. How can things change so drastically in less than a month? Is this what growing up is all about? Losing closest friends and making new ones instead? Sighing softly, I join Harry and slide my hand into his warm one.

"A galleon for you thoughts?" I murmur as I rest my head on his shoulder.

He laughs softly, "I'd trade a galleon for you any day, Mione."

"Hey, I am not for sale," I retort and he laughs outright as he slides his arm around my waist and he kisses my cheek.

"Love you too…And thank you for earlier," he murmurs and to my surprise, he blushes.

"Was I that good?" I ask, completely amused by his bashfulness. In fact it is adorable and enough to reward him with a deeply passionate kiss, but I resist. I'll save my passionate kiss for another time.

"Good," he chuckles, "You were bloody brilliant."

Now it is my turn to blush and I bury my head in his shoulder, and whisper, "The pleasure is yours to have, Harry."

"Ah, maybe so, but you thoroughly enjoyed yourself. In fact, you look well and truly fucked," he chuckles.

I roll my eyes, "I think you've spent too much time listening to George, but I must say, you should look at yourself. You are more than well and truly fucked," I tease. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to crawl into a hole and die. I don't curse…normally, but with him, it means something else entirely.

"Oh my God…My hot girlfriend has just cursed," he laughs as he dances around me.

"It's your fault," I say as I fold my arms across my chest, "You have always been a bad influence on me. Coercing me into breaking about fifty school rules."

He stops dancing and his jaw drops, "I coerced you? What a load of twat, Mione. You were always keen to help us and you were always searching for answers in the library."

"Yes, I know. Don't rub it in," I tease.

He smirks as he circles his arms around me, "I can do more than just rub it in," he teases and he has the nerve to grind his hips into me. I suck in air as I playfully push him away.

"You've had your fill for today, Harry. I am off the market for at least a week," I say as I become aware of a pleasant dull throbbing ache down there and as I wonder about it, my eyes widen in shock and disbelief. He frowns as he regards me with concern.

"What…What is it?" he asks.

"We…We have not used any means of protection, Harry," I blurt as I drop to the ground. I wrap my arms around my legs and stare resolutely at the lake.

He drops next to me and sighs, "I know. I'm sorry. It's slipped my mind. I know we should have gone to the doctor." He sighs again and stares forlornly across the lake like me while we both contemplate the consequences of our irresponsible behavior.

"When last-" he finally breaks the silence.

"I don't know. With all the travelling we did, I lost track," I bite my lip to prevent myself from bursting into tears like a stupid immature girl.

"Hey," he says softly as he grasps my chin and turns towards me, "It doesn't matter, Mione. We will make it work. I will make it work and that is a promise."

"How can it not matter?" I whisper.

"Because no matter what happens, I will be there for you and with you. I love you and want to be with you and that is not going to change."

"Harry," I whisper as he gently enfolds me in his arms and holds me close, "I love you more than I care to admit. It's just that we are so young. We have an entire future ahead of us. You need to complete your education."

"I know. So do you, Mione. So do you… You know it's not too late to change your mind about returning to Hogwarts."

I vehemently shake my head, "No, I meant it when I told you I don't want to go back. I do not want to go back, but I will support you if you do."

"I am going back, Mione, but before I do that, I think we should consider finding a flat for us. You and me, Mione. I have the money. You have the money. I think we should go ahead and do it and besides, I think it'd be great to have a place we can call our own."

"Ron's leaving," I whisper.

"I know…He told me that yesterday and that was after he politely informed me about his relationship with Lavender. He is going to move into the flat above the shop and board with George."

"So you knew?" I murmur.

"Yeah, I did. I was going to tell you, but the opportunity never arose. Except for now…"

"Except for now," I echo.

"I'm still angry with him, Mione. He had no right to insult you like that."

"He's pissed off with me, Harry. It will pass."

"Well, next time he will get more than a bruised jaw. No-one, especially my best friend, has the right to insult my girlfriend and think they can get away with it."

I glance at him, amused and touched by his admission, "Girlfriend, huh?"

"Yeah," he smiles. "Sounds brilliant, doesn't it?"

"What about lover?" I tease more to see him blush and to my delight he does.

"What about fiancée?" he shoots back and that leaves me at a complete loss as to how to respond.

"Are you serious, Harry? Is there something you'd like to ask me?" I ask softly as I play with his fingers.

"Yeah, there is, but the time is not right," he replies as he regards me over his glasses and I start laughing.

"All you need is a pointy hat like McGonagall's to complete the picture of being a teacher," I tease as I readjust his glasses on his nose. I feel his hands slide beneath my clothes and I allow him to pull me onto his lap, not that I need much encouragement.

"Professor Potter how do you perform a patronus charm?" I tease as I thread my fingers through his hair, "Or Professor Potter, how do I disarm an opponent?"

He rolls his eyes and laughs and he wants to say something, but I shake my head, "Professor Potter," I whisper as I deliberately rock into him, "Are you going to teach this naughty girl to behave?"

"Mmm, I think this naughty girl needs to go home and have a hot shower, don't you agree?" he asks as he gently pushes me off his lap, "Come on my beautiful girl, it's getting late." He gets to his feet, holds out his hands for me to take and he pulls me into his arms, "One for the road?"

"Oh yes," I breathe as our lips come together in a tender kiss, "I love you."

"Love you more, lover girl," he teases.

"Oh for God's sake, sod off," I mutter as we pull apart and we both give the lake a lingering glance.

"We should come here again," he says softly.

"I'd like that, Harry. It's really beautiful and peaceful and exactly what I needed to clear my head…"

"Not from me, I hope?"

"Not from you, I promise. Now, on the count of three…"

He quickly ensures our hands are securely intertwined and when he is satisfied, he nods.

"One…" We say together.

"Two," he whispers.

"Three," I murmur and once again we spin into oblivion.

* * *

We traipse into the kitchen, euphoric after the adrenaline rush of apparating and of course, our steamy romantic interlude earlier today. His cheeks are slightly flushed and I don't want to know what I look like because I am well and truly fucked, like he said. The thought makes me flush with pleasure and complete satisfaction.

"Where have you been?" shrills Mrs Weasley as soon as she spots us by the door. I cringe. We went against her wishes and did the disappearing act..again. As I think this, the realisation dawns on his face.

"Shit…"

She glowers, "Mind your language, young man…"

He flashes her an apologetic and endearing grin, "I do apologise, Mrs Weasley. We would have informed you if we knew what we going to do this afternoon. Unfortunately, it was one of those spur-of-the-moment decisions."

She sighs and throws her hands up in exasperation, "Oh alright. I forgive you, but," she says as she regards us, no doubting notice our rather dishevelled appearances, "Where did you go, if you don't mind me asking."

She shoos us to the table and we promptly sit down. She moves around the kitchen bringing out bowls, cutlery and a bottle of butter-beer. My mouth waters at the thought of downing a glass. Surprisingly, I am thirsty and hungry and he probably feels the same. I look at him and he is literally drooling and his stomach grumbles for good measure. She places the glasses in front of us, serves us the butter-beer. She disappears into the diningroom and comes back with two bowls of soup. My mouth waters even more when I realise she's made vegetable soup - one of my favorites. She then places a basket with freshly baked miniature bread-rolls in front of us and only then does she sit down.

"Well, I am waiting. Where did you go?"

He looks at me and I shrug my shoulders, letting him know, he can explain why, because I am not going to be at the wrong end of Mrs Weasley's disapproval. He sighs and sets his glass aside.

"Okay, but you are going to mad at me, but I want you to hear me out first…"

She frowns and nods, but says nothing.

"Okay, we went to a lake near my Mum's childhood home. It was where she and Severus Snape spent their holidays and time before and during their years at Hogwarts."

Her frown deepens while she considers his explanation, "Lily and Severus were childhood friends, I know. They used to spend hours together at Hogwarts and he was often at the mercy of James and his band of marauders. For a time, I thought the two of them were more than just friends…until Snape started taking an interest in the Dark Arts. He followed Tom Riddle around even though he was at least two years ahead of him and Lily did not approve, however it did not prevent Severus pursuing her romantically."

I grip Harry's hand. His expression is tense and upset all at once.

"And James went out of his way to snag Lily…With Severus turning to Dark magic and all of that, her decision wasn't difficult to make. She was gentle in letting Severus know that she was not remotely interested him in that way and that she would always regard him as a friend…And that only served to cement his decision to delve deeper with Tom Riddle, Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle…You know them all, Harry… At least most of them."

He tightens his grip on my hand, "He loved my Mum, Molly…You didn't see the memories he gave to me shortly before he died."

"I know that and as for James, I always thought he was arrogant and rather full of himself. He was popular among his peers, but he was not my favorite person. You may look like him, Harry, but you are nothing like James. You are Lily's son through and through. To this day, I do not know what she saw in him, but does it matter?"

"Yeah, it does. He loved my Mum. He was there shortly after she died. He cradled her in his arms and wept, Molly. I don't think I have ever seen a man as devastated and broken as he was…He loved her… He loved me… You should have seen the look in his eyes when he asked me to look at him. The last words he said was that 'you have Lily's eyes'…All these years I despised him and for what? Only to find out that he was protecting me all along. He sacrificed everything to ensure I had the tools and knowledge to destroy Voldemort. Dumbledore's death was not murder, Molly. It was planned by Dumbledore and Snape…"

By this point the tears are running freely down his cheeks and I am on the verge of joining him, but this Harry - there is absolute remorse and regret in his eyes for the man who loved his Mum. I cannot take his tears anymore and I get to my feet and slip my arms around his shoulders.

"It's okay," I murmur, "I'm here."

"Harry," she says softly, "None of this is your fault."

"Yeah?" he yells as he jumps to his feet, sending me stumbling backwards and in a panic I look around for anything to grab onto, but there is nothing and I stumble to the floor, landing flat on my backside. It knocks my breath away and I gasp for air.

"People died because of me," he yells as he steps over me, and he stalks, slamming the door behind me causing me to flinch and burst into tears simultaneously.

"Hermione," she says, "Are you okay?"

"I will be fine," I snap as I manage to pull myself to my feet, "I've been through worse." I am beyond upset and I need time to gather my thoughts. Smiling apologetically at her, I grab my glass, bowl and a roll of bread, "Look, I need time to think. I'm sorry about all of this. I did not realise he was this…I don't know," I sigh as I slump back into the chair. What is the point of eating alone when she will provide good company and a good ear?

"Eat your supper and we can talk. It's not as if my children are at home tonight."

Frowning, I look at her, "What do you mean?"

"Well, Ginny is out with Dean…again. Ron has moved in with George and Percy has a date with Penelope Clearwater and my husband," she smiles fondly, "Is tinkering away in the garage…You know how he is and the fascination he has with muggle 'artifacts'," she chuckles.

"And you are here on your own," I muse as I break my bread roll apart so that I can dip it into the soup.

"Not really. You and Harry are here, so technically, I am not really alone."

I frown as I eye the backdoor. I wonder where he could be. I hope he is not doing something rash and that just makes me anxious.

"He will be fine, Hermione. He just needs to blow off steam, that is all. Now, I believe you don't want to return to Hogwarts in September." It's more of a statement than a question.

"No, I don't, but Harry intends to go back…" I stare into my soup, my appetite has seemingly disappeared, "I don't know what to do. If I go back, we will not be allowed to continue our relationship and if I go to university, then we won't see each other. I don't know which is worse."

"You are that serious about him, Hermione?" she asks as she folds her hands in front of her, "I've seen the way you look at him and I've seen the way you glow around him. He really makes you happy."

"I love him," I whisper and as I say the words, I feel his eyes on me and I turn towards him, "Harry?" I venture as I get to my feet and approach him. I stop within arm's reach and I wait for him to speak first. I am barely aware of the chair scraping back as Mrs Weasley gets up and walks out. He eyes me for a moment before closing the distance between us and taking me into his arms.

"I'm sorry…for hurting you, Mione," he murmurs as he nuzzles my hair.

"I'm okay…Don't worry about me. It's you I am worried about."

"Mione," he breathes as he gently cups my face, "I love you," he murmurs as he kisses me.

"I know you do…" I whisper as we come up for air, "But you should eat something and a hot shower sound exactly what you need."

"Mmm," he whispers as he kisses the tip of my nose, "What I need is you in the shower with me to make it worthwhile."

"Harry, after what we shared today? I don't think I am up for another session…"

"Yeah? We will see about that," he laughs as we walk back to our seats. I pick up my spoon and resume eating my soup while I contemplate his plans for our shower. I don't think I am going to get away with refusing him. The thought makes me smile and down the rest of my soup with gusto. I follow that with butter-beer and I end up refilling my glass while he takes his merry time eating his meal.

I eagerly follow him into the bathroom holding tightly to his hand and every once in a while, he rubs his thumb along my knuckles. In spite of telling him I don't think we should make love again today considering my slight discomfit from our earlier today, it is clear it is exactly what he wants to do.

"Harry," I tease as I hang back, "I was being serious when I told you making love again was out of the question."

He laughs deeply as he turns towards me. His eyes are alight with humor and I giggle. I love it when he is like this. At least he is happier than he was earlier in the evening.

"Mione, you misunderstand."

I regard him with a slight frown and a smile. I can't help but wonder what he has planned for us this evening and I find the _not-knowing_ very exciting.

"How so?" I ask.

He tilts his head to the side and smiles, "Wait and see."

"I don't know about this, Harry," I whisper.

"Hey," he says softly as he touches me cheek, forcing me to meet his gaze, "Do you trust me, my beautiful girl?"

"I do, but-"

"Mione," he says quietly as his hands move along my arms, to my sides to the hem of my jersey. He slowly lifts it up and tosses it the floor. He grabs my hands and pulls me in for a hug and I snuggle into him, glad to be in his arms.

"Mmm, I am not going to make love to you tonight," he reassures me.

"You aren't?" I ask, not quite hiding the disappointment in my voice, "I mean, I won't object if you do."

"As tempting as that sounds," he chuckles, "You are right… Just trust me and you'll see."

Smiling at him, I decide to indulge him and see where it leads.

"Okay, I trust you. Of course I trust. I love you, Harry."

He grins at me as he releases me, "I love you too. Now, please let me take care of you."

I don't say anything more as he grips the material of my shirt and starts tugging it upwards. He tilts his head to the side and silently regards me as he inches it over my breasts, being careful not to touch me. I watch his progress until I have to close my eyes as he pulls it over my head. Once he tosses that aside, he moves his hand to my back and unclasps my bra. As he pushes the straps off my shoulders, he plants a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth and it draws a soft sigh from my lips. As he moves away, I turn towards him and lightly brush the corner of his mouth with my lips. I bring my hands up and place them on his shoulders as our kiss becomes more than just a kiss. His mouth is demanding and gentle at the same time. He threads his fingers through my hair cascading it around my shoulders and then he cups my face between his hands.

"Mmm, this is not what I had in mind," he says softly, breathlessly and I laugh softly.

"What did you have in mind?" I ask.

"Well," he murmurs as he gently pushes me away, "Let's get out of our clothes and into a hot shower. What do you say?"

"Okay," I agree as I turn and step away from him. I walk to the shower, turn it on and while it heats up, I strip off my remaining clothes. By the time I have tossed them on top of his clothes, billows of steam have filled the bathroom causing a sense of intimacy and coziness we have not yet experienced. It really feels as if I am home, even though The Burrow is not my home, it still feels like a home. Without checking to see what he is doing, I step into the shower and I stand under water. It is very soothing and relaxing and washes all my worries away…for the moment.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note**

Please note that the Snape idea was something I was playing with. Has one ever considered that Harry may have had doubts? He named his son after Snape as per canon novel, so he clearly did not think he was the bad guy. For now, he has let the topic rest. If you read the rest of my story, it does not come up again, but that is not to say I am leaving it as it is. If Harry wants to explore the possibility, then he will, but as most good writers are aware, sometimes the characters talk to you.

* * *

Welcome to Chapter 11, through to 15. Please note there are 5 more chapters to come. At the moment, I have not made a decision to continue with a sequel, however I will ensure there is a good epilogue that I hope will be well-received. And once again, I express my thanks for all your honest reviews and opinions. I do appreciate it.

Kind Regards

SammyGal123

* * *

**Chapter 11**

I wander away from the excited chatter at the breakfast table to stand by the backdoor. I take a deep breath and the sweet scent of flowers in full bloom assault my senses. The garden is a rainbow of color set off by the dark green grass, yet there is a definite chill in the air. In six weeks it will be the start of autumn and the start of a new school year for those returning to Hogwarts and for those starting the first semester at university. I smile about this because I received a response from the university I would like to attend. They are willing to accept me on condition I provide an essay on British Law and a motivational letter as to why I feel I should be given the opportunity to study with them. I am excited and anxious all at once about it. What also makes me smile is that Harry's birthday is coming up and I have absolutely no idea what I am going to give to him as a gift. I have asked him and he insists he has all he wants, me being what he wants.

As I turn back to the table, a commotion by the stairs draws my attention and a sugary, silly voice floats on the air and I press my hands to my ears when I realise who it is. I don't even want to turn around when I hear them stumble into the kitchen. I wasn't even aware he was at home. Since he moved out he has visited once, maybe twice just to give his Mother peace of mind, and the last thing I expected was seeing him again with Lavender's arms wrapped around his waist. He is a sight for sore eyes with his blood-shot eyes and too long hair. His cheeks and ears are beet-red and there are love-bites all along his chest and neck. He doesn't even have the decency to pull on a vest or shirt to hide the evidence of what he has been up to…with that silly bimbo.

"Well, aren't you a sight?" I mutter sarcastically as I fold my arms across my chest in an effort to keep my emotions under control. I don't know whether it is anger or jealousy I am currently feeling, but the urge to hurt him is overwhelming and I shouldn't even feel anything at all, but I do. While I consider the nature of my current feelings, I realise I am angry more with the fact he has brought her here more than anything else. The Burrow is my place of comfort and without his presence, I have been very happy and relaxed which has not gone by unnoticed by Mr and Mrs Weasley and my boyfriend.

He regards me with narrowed eyes and the antagonism radiating off him is almost too much to bear, but I will not be intimidated by him. I am over that and I don't need him to set me back. It's been weeks of endless patience for everyone here to help me work through what Bellatrix did to me. It's only the last couple of weeks, if not more that I have been able to sleep without interference - apart from Harry when he wants intimacy with me and that happens any time of the night…or day - from my nightmares, and now Ron is here looking as smug and arrogant as ever with a blond bimbo hanging onto him and his every word.

"You've cut your hair," he states and I shrug my shoulders. Harry and I went into London a couple of days ago to look at apartments and we both had our hair cut. Mine was styled into a short layered bob with my fringe cut in such a way that it hangs just above my right eye - it's long enough to tuck it behind my ear.

"Well noted," I return, lacing my words with sarcasm. I look away when another memory of Ron pointing out the obvious fact that I am a girl. That was also during the Triwizard Tournament. I remember feeling put out when I realised he had always seen me as one of the guys. I drop my arms to my sides and clasp them behind my back. Today I am wearing a snug pair of light blue jeans and a cream tight-fitting tank-top that hugs my curves just as much as my jeans hug my hips. Today is one of those days when I feel really good about myself and I can't help blushing or the huge smile spreading across my face when I become aware of Harry's intense piercing green gaze. Automatically I turn towards him just as he gets up. I wait for him to join me and when he does, he slips his arm possessively around my waist and he gives me a quick kiss on my cheek. There is no mistaking the claim he is making on me in front of his best friend. I don't even know if they are friends anymore.

"So, when did you arrive?" I ask, eyeing both Ron and Lavender and taking delight in their discomfit.

He scowls, "You say that as if I should be invited to stay in my own home, Hermione."

"Well, you should be, Ronald, after all you and Lavender were very vocal when you walked in at two this morning," says Mrs Weasley in that scolding way of hers. Surprised, I turn towards her and what surprises me even more is the anger flickering in her blue eyes.

He looks away, running his fingers through his messy hair and I stifle my exasperated sigh. It's been six weeks since we defeated the Dark Lord and he still has the emotional range of a teaspoon. One would think he would have grown up by now, but considering his irresponsible behavior, he hasn't and Lavender is not helping the situation either with the way she has literally wrapped her arms and legs around him. She gives me a triumphant smile and I roll my eyes heavenward as if she has been so successful in wrapping Ron around her little finger. I laugh inwardly - who am I kidding? She _has_ got him wrapped around her little finger and he is lapping it up just like the immature boy he is.

"What do you want me to say, Mum? We had nowhere else to go when we went home last night as George refused to let us in," he explains.

"Won-Won, we could have gone to my parent's place. It would have been the perfect opportunity to introduce you to them after what we discussed last night."

He scowls, "Whatever we discussed is not going to happen."

Her smile falters and she looks away. As I watch her struggling with her emotions, I realise that he more than likely promised her the world in his drunken stupor without realising it. If I really think about it, she does not appear hungover, unlike Ron with his bloodshot eyes, dark circles and the lingering sour scent of liquor that seems to permeate everything. I scrunch my nose in disgust as I turn towards my boyfriend, but I step back when I notice the tension on his face and I notice his tightly clenched fists pressed against his sides as if he is trying his utmost to keep his temper under control. I reach for his hand as I move to stand behind him and I wrap both my arms around his middle.

"What did you discuss, Ron?" asks Mrs Weasley while she regards her son and his girlfriend who still appears to be struggling with something.

He shrugs, "I can't remember. I was drunk," he replies and the tension in the air thickens and settles around us like a black cloud, "And besides that, it has nothing to do with any of you," he continues as he eyes Harry and me.

"Won-won," she whines.

"Shut up," he snaps, "Otherwise you can find your own way home, Lavender. I am not in the mood to listen to this…bullshit."

"You never are…," she shrieks as she disentangles her arms and legs from around his body. With blond hair flying in different directions, she rounds on him, "Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps I…I love you?"

"You don't," he says quietly as he folds his arms. "I thought we agreed on no strings attached, Lavender."

She glares at him, "That was you, not me, Ronald… I never agreed to it, but then perhaps you were too drunk to remember." She flips her long mane of blond hair behind her shoulder and turns around, "I will not be used."

"Yeah?" he smirks, "It's not nice, is it, Lavender?"

She stamps her foot and mutters something unintelligible before sashaying back the way they came. I close my eyes and count to ten to relieve the tension building up. All I want is peace and quiet and it looks like I am not getting it today. I release Harry and I sit down in his vacated seat. I reach for his half-empty glass of orange juice and I down it in one go.

"No strings attached, Ron?" Harry comments as he sits next to me. I instinctively reach for his hand, interlocking our fingers together.

"What do you care, Harry? You have what you need. What I do in my own time is no concern of yours."

"Yeah?" he smirks, "You won't find anyone if you keep on behaving like a spoilt child."

He glowers, "I had someone before my so-called best friend stole her from me."

Sighing softly, I shake my head, "Grow up, Ronald. We are not in school anymore. You had your chance and you blew it more times than I care to count. I love Harry and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it."

"You mean you are not in school anymore?" he states. "From what I've heard you are going to a muggle university. What witch or wizard in their right mind would do that?" he asks as he sits down and helps himself to orange juice and a piece of toast.

Harry tenses next to me and I quickly turn towards him. I squeeze his hand letting him know I'm okay. He relaxes but not completely and he keeps his eyes firmly glued to Ron's face.

"I want a normal life free of Hogwarts and everything magical, Ronald," I reply, thinking back to the conversation I had with Harry when I received the letter from the university. Our conversation became heated and almost unbearable while I explained my reasons to him.

"You will never be normal. You are a witch, Hermione," he observes and I roll my eyes.

"How very observant of you, Ronald," I say as evenly as I possibly can even though there is a definite tremor in my voice. A tremor Harry only understands. He knows I don't want him to go back and that I am afraid the nightmares will return because he will be staying at Hogwarts in between school holidays and the occasional long weekends.

"Cut it out with the sarcasm, Hermione. I get it, okay?" he snaps as he tears his piece of toast in half.

"I don't know why it should bother you so much. You will have your best friend back, Ronald," I point out as I jump to my feet as I am sick and tired of his attitude. He is getting under my skin more than I realise.

"Who said I am going back, Hermione?" he retorts.

"You are" says Mrs Weasley, "Discipline is what you need and considering you refuse to listen to your father or myself, you will do exactly as I tell you. You will return in September, Ronald, and you will see out the year. Perhaps you will finally grow up into the man you are supposed to be, but this," she continues, "This irresponsible behavior will land you in trouble, if it hasn't already."

"And what man is that, Mother?"

"The man I know is in there…somewhere, waiting to shine through and that will only happen if you give it a chance. I don't want you to end up in the gutter."

"What man can I be when the woman I love-" he trails off, looking directly at me.

"I love Harry," I murmur.

"Do you really love him, Hermione or are you just trying to convince yourself otherwise?" he asks softly as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"I love him, Ron. More than I care to admit. I love him," I reply softly and sincerely as I turn towards Harry watching us…well me, closely. I bring his hand to my lips and I plant a soft kiss in the centre of his palm. He alone knows what it means and he visibly relaxes, "I love you," I mouth as I return his hand to my lap.

"And we are moving into our own apartment in a couple of weeks," I continue as I warily look at Ron, not knowing what I will see. I don't know what I expect to see, but what I see is nothing. His expression is carefully guarded as if he is afraid of feeling too much. I realise I have hurt him deeply and that the chances of him forgiving me are getting less with each passing minute.

"I guess we can expect to hear wedding bells soon," he mutters and for once I decide to keep quiet as there is no point in adding fuel to the fire when he is this hurt and angry. We have touched on the subject of marriage a couple of times during the last couple of weeks, but we have not decided on anything yet.

"Do I really have to go back to Hogwarts, Mum?" he asks, pushing himself away from the table.

"You do and Ginny will be returning as well," she replies and this thought fills me with dread. _What if she makes a move on Harry? What if Harry allows it? Will he really allow it?_ The thought of not seeing him or waking up next to him is too much. I hastily get to my feet and excuse myself. I bolt out into the back garden and I make my way to the swing George and Harry installed a couple of weeks ago beneath one of the trees in their garden. I sit down and stare resolutely at nothing in particular. That is not the only thing I am concerned about. For the last week or so I have been feeling out of sorts and out of whack and I don't know why. I sleep well. I eat well and I have gained a pound or two, which is a good thing considering I lost a lot of weight during our search for horcruxes and being constantly one step ahead of the body snatchers. I don't know if it is anxiety about moving in with Harry or anxiety about this essay I have to put together before they will accept me as a sophomore student.

"I thought I'd find you here."

"I needed to think, that is all."

"What's wrong, Mione?" he asks as he crouches in front of me.

I sigh, "I don't want you to go back, Harry. Do you really have to go back?"

He tilts his head to the side and frowns, "If you don't want me to go, Mione, then tell me."

I regard him for a minute, "Even if I asked you to stay, you won't."

He sighs and lifts his hand to my cheek, "It's only for a year, my love."

"A year too long," I whisper over the lump forming in my throat, "Please don't go. I don't want to be alone."

"Love," he sighs, "Do I really have a choice? The school needs a teacher and I need to complete my education so that I can give you the life you deserve. So that I can build a home for any children we may have together…and besides once you have been accepted into university, you are not going to have much time to think about me as you will be too busy studying like the dedicated student you are."

Biting my lip, I look him in the eye, "Harry, I have been feeling out of sorts for the last week or two-"

"I know…I figured that out myself. Do you know why?" he asks.

I shake my head, "No, I haven't figured that part out just yet."

"Mmm…I think you are overly anxious and that is to be expected considering the challenges we have faced so far. You just need to relax a bit. That is all. Come," he says softly as he reaches my hands and pulls me to my feet. Laughing, I stumble into his arms and kiss him, earning a rumble of appreciation from him and he wraps me securely in his arms. I tighten my arms around him and I tuck my head beneath his chin.

"I love being in your arms like this," I whisper. "It makes me happy and contented, as if nothing can go wrong in the world we've created for ourselves."

"I love holding you in my arms like this, Mione. You have no idea how happy it makes me to know that you love me."

"What would you like for your birthday?" I whisper.

He laughs. "I have everything I want and need right here in my arms, my love."

"There must be something I can give to you," I muse.

"Well, there is one thing," he whispers as he gazes at me with all the love in his eyes for me.

"What?" I murmur over the unexpected thudding of my heart. Grinning at me, he tilts my head to the side and whispers what he wants from me. By the time he has finished with his request, a warm flush has covered my entire body making me feel completely flustered.

"Harry," I breathe, "You can't be serious."

"I am, my sweet girl and I know you will give me exactly what I want…Now, before we get carried away, why don't we go for a walk?"

"Mmm," I muse, "That sounds like an excellent idea. Anything to clear my head from my feelings of despair."

"Despair?" he frowns, "Why do you say that?"

I shrug my shoulders, "I don't know. It just popped out…Now, are we going for a walk or not?" I ask as I grab his hand and start tugging him towards the field beyond the Weasley's garage.

"It just popped out?" he asks incredulously and I start laughing.

"Yes, it just popped out… Now, are we going for a walk or not?" I ask as he tugs me back into his arms. He nuzzles my hair and kisses the tip of my nose.

"Yes we are, even though I have something more exciting and mutually beneficial in mind," he chuckles.

"Such as?"

"Now that would be telling," he chuckles.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

I stare at my papers and books scattered around me while I gently massage my temples in an attempt to ease my tension headache that is worsening with each passing minute and the unexpected heat wave we are experiencing is not making it any easier. The window is open next to the bed I share with Harry at The Burrow, yet there is no breeze blowing in to cool me down. There is a thin sheen of sweat on my forehead and for the first time since I had my hair styled short, I am grateful I don't have the bushy mane plastered against my neck when it was still long. The sweat is even dripping between my breasts and I decide to remove my tee-shirt. I pull it up and over my head and I toss it to the floor in mild relief. I reach for my glass of water and I have a long, leisurely sip and I grimace. The water is warm, but no matter, I will just cast a jinx to make it cold again. I mutter the incantation on my breath and in front of me, my glass refills and it is ice cold. Cold enough to pour it over my head, if I was not sitting so comfortably on my…I laugh, our bed. I still find it difficult to call the bed he has used since he was twelve, our bed.

It is going to feel strange moving into our apartment at the end of next week. After being around the Weasley's and all the drama that has taken place during the last seven weeks or so, both Harry and I are looking forward to finally having time to ourselves without the constant disapproving and jealous glares, Ron and Ginny still direct at us at every given opportunity…except for today. It seems they have called a truce with Harry as the three of them, including George are out playing Quidditch while I slug it out as the diligent student I am. That has not changed. I love the smell of the paper surrounding me more than I love the smell of parchment and anything remotely magical. The smell of muggle paper is far more appealing than the parchment we wrote on at Hogwarts.

Sighing softly, I glance out the window. I sometimes wish I was not afraid of flying so that I can join him. He has always enjoyed flying. I've had to fly in the past, but I was always accompanied except for the time when we found the last horcrux in the Room of Requirement where one of Draco Malory's friends was killed during the fire he caused. Draco Malfoy… I scowl thinking about the Malfoys, but at the same time, I smile as they alway thought they were superior to the rest of us, yet they fell the hardest because they were a disgrace to the wizarding world. A family of purebloods and once upon a time, highly respected by the Dark Lord himself, yet they were the first to leave Hogwarts when Harry rolled free of Hagrid's arms to face Voldemort in the final battle between good and evil.

My eyes mist over thinking about the events prior to that. I thought he died. When he told me what he had to do, my heart broke into a million pieces and I wanted to go with him to be with him, but he insisted he needed to go it alone. I remember thinking about the irony of the situation as there were many times when he wanted to _go it alone _and each time, either Ron or me would persuade him otherwise, except for that time when I realised he really had to _go it alone_. He still told me that '_Neither one can live while the other survived…'_ His words crushed me at the time. A lone tear runs down my cheek and I furiously wipe it away. I am glad he is not here to see me like this, not that he minds. If he were here with me, I'd be in his arms listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart while he murmurs soothing words to me, letting me know it is okay to cry. God knows, we have done a fair amount of crying during the last few weeks. He feels it the most because he thinks he is responsible for so many deaths, innocents or otherwise and that is why I am happy he is doing something he really enjoys.

And I still don't know what to get him for his birthday in a couple of days. He has more than enough of everything, but what would he appreciate the most? While I ponder what to get him, I grab the book on British Law and I start perusing it. There are so many fancy words and they all make perfect sense to me. I set it aside so that I can start jotting down important points. I want my essay to be perfect and insightful to sway the Dean and I have an interview next week with the Dean of Law Studies. I intend completing my essay as well as my motivational letter by then. As I write my notes, I can't help the excitement settling over me. This is something new and completely different to what I learnt at Hogwarts and it is very refreshing and stimulating. The more I write, the more excited I become and the more certain I become that I have made the right decision.

There is sharp tap on the window and startled out of my concentration, I look up and a smile spreads across my face. I set the book aside and I open the window wider. My heart rate increases as I take in his fine form. His jet black hair is tousled, his glasses askew and he is shirtless. The sweat runs in rivulets along his chest, making him glisten as if oil has been rubbed all over his body.

"Hey beautiful, please join us?" he asks sweetly as he hovers on his Firebolt by the window. I glance at the grass two floors down and I shudder.

"I think not, my love. You know I don't like to fly."

"Come on babe. Please?"

I roll my eyes. From love to babe. It never stops. He always call me one or the other depending on his mood and today he seems to be in a good mood.

"What do you want for your birthday?" I ask as I take a step back.

He shrugs and laughs, "I want to make love to my girlfriend all day on my birthday."

A warm flush spreads throughout me making my cheeks flame and I look away, "Harry, don't say that. You know the effect it has on me."

"Aw, babe….Don't go all coy on me and besides I was just teasing you," he smirks as he flies that much closer to the window. His eyes dart around as if he's looking for something and then he frowns, "An owl, Mione. I want an owl. I miss Hedwig," he says softly as he looks anywhere but at me.

"Harry," I murmur a I step right up to the window so that I can comfort him somehow. This is the first time he has mentioned Hedwig in over a year. She was killed by a death eater when we all rallied around him and drank Poly-juice Potion to ensure Harry safely reached The Burrow. It was disastrous. Someone betrayed us. Snape jinxed George causing him to lose his ear… and Alastor Moody died.

He looks at me from beneath his lashes and before I realise it, his arm shoots out, wrapping itself securely around my waist and I shriek his name as he effortlessly swings me onto his broom.

"Harry James Potter, I could kill you right about now," I mutter as I wrap my arms securely around his middle, "And I am in my bra, you toss-pot."

"I think you look mighty fine, Ms Granger," he laughs as he flies towards Ron and Ginny tossing a football between them while they hover at least ten metres above the ground, "And you won't kill me," he laughs as he accelerates.

"Hold on tight my beautiful girl," he says as he angles his broom upwards.

"Harry, please?" I whimper, but he ignores me. I close my eyes and concentrate on the warmth and stickiness of his body as I press my cheek against his back. I breathe in his sweaty scent and it sets my pulse racing.

"You've spent too much time burying your head in those books, my love. You need fresh air," he bellows as the air rushes past us, instantly cooling me down, but it is not enough to still my rapidly beating heart which has nothing to do with me flying. It has everything to do with Harry and our close proximity.

"I am a student…A soon-to-be-sophomore," I bellow back. He slows down to a near-standstill and he turns towards me. I smile at the absolute happiness in his eyes and on his face.

"And I am a soon-to-be-teacher, teaching students like myself all about defense against the dark arts."

I scowl. "Don't remind me, Harry. I am not happy about the arrangement. We will never see each other."

"Hey," he says softly, "Of course we will. So please don't worry about that, Mione."

"I am going to miss you so much," I whisper.

He smiles, "Not as much as I am going to miss my beautiful Mione." He turns away and accelerates again. The wind rushes past us as we head back to the waiting siblings who are still tossing the football between them

"Where's George?"

"He went back to the shop," he replies, "But I think it has more to do with seeing Angelina."

"So, are they like together, Harry?"

"Yeah, it seems like it. He didn't say much, so I left it at that… He misses Fred. It's like the life has been sucked out of him."

"How would you feel if it were your twin, Harry? Or me, instead?" I barely can say the words over the unexpected lump in my throat. Swallowing it down, I close my eyes and tighten my arms around him.

He senses my sadness, because he veers away from Ron and Ginny and he flies towards a clump of trees not far from The Burrow. He slowly descends until we touch ground. He waits for me to hop off his Firebolt before following me and I walk a few steps away just so that I can compose myself. I furiously wipe away my tears and I take a few deep breaths in an effort to bring my emotions back under control.

"Mione?" he ventures as he places his hands on my shoulders. He pulls me towards him and plants a soft kiss behind my ear.

"I'm…okay, I think. I'm sorry. It saddens me when I think about it, that is all. If you died, I would be devastated. It's just difficult to believe Fred is dead, Harry. I never thought any harm would come to the Weasley's, yet Fred died. Just like Remus and Tonks…and so many others."

"I know what you mean. I live with the guilt every day. Not a day goes by when I look at Mrs Weasley and see the pain in her eyes. It kills me."

"It was not your fault, Harry. We all had our reasons for fighting…Some were personal. Others fought to rid the world of evil, but even that still lurks in the corners. The threat has been erased, but evil lurks in every corner, waiting for the moment to strike."

"As reasonable as ever, aren't you, my love?" he chuckles as he turns me around to face him.

"No, just highly logical," I smirk and he laughs outright. It is not the first time I have told him that and he always finds it amusing.

He tilts his head to the side as he tucks a lose tendril of hair behind my ear. He eyes me from head to toe and he smiles appreciatively at me and just like that, the air between us becomes charged with electricity. I feel the heat radiating from his body. He closes the distance between us and with his finger, he pushes the strap of my lace bra off my shoulder. He does the same to the other side and then he brings me towards him and unhooks my bra, allowing it to drop to the carpet of grass beneath our barefeet. His breathing hitches as does mine as he turns me around so that his chest is pressed lightly against my back. He slips his arms around me as he starts trailing blazing kisses along my shoulders, to the soft skin at the nape of my neck. I close my eyes and relax into him so that I can enjoy the attention he is giving to me. With each kiss, my sadness slowly fades away until all I feel is the love I have for the young man holding me so gently in his arms.

"Mione," he murmurs softly as splays his hands along the flat of my stomach.

"Yes?"

"Are you still feeling out of sorts?" he asks softly as he gently strokes my stomach with his thumbs.

"No," I sigh, "It seems to have passed. I think I _was_ overly-anxious, just like you said."

He smiles, "I knew it. I know you too well…"

"Do you really?" I smirk as I turn around in his arms. I slip my arms around his neck and lean towards him, eager for his kiss.

"Well, I know what you want from me right now," he replies and before I have a chance to respond, his mouth finds mine. I thread my fingers through his hair and I elicit a contented sigh. He smiles against my lips as if he knows exactly what is going through my mind at the moment and briefly we lose ourselves in the moment we have created for ourselves, until he abruptly pulls away.

"What?" I ask surprised as his eyes dart nervously around for the source of whatever has distracted him and with it, the warmth leaves the afternoon.

He quickly retrieves my bra, "Put it back on, Mione, and then we are going back to The Burrow," he says firmly as he shoves it into my hands. Confused and a little bewildered by his reaction, I do what he wants. He wouldn't be so annoyed for no reason and I don't understand why when he grabs his broom, straddles it and reaches for my hand. He guides me on behind me and without sparing another glance, he kicks off and we soar right above the trees. It is only then that I notice a bright red head running back to the make-shift Quidditch pitch. I am all too-aware of the tension in his back and shoulders. He is angry…angry enough to spit fire and ice if he had the necessary skills to that and for no apparent reason, I start shivering.

"It's okay," he reassures me.

"No, it isn't. That was Ron, wasn't it, Harry?"

"Yeah and I don't like the way he looks at you when we are in the same room…It pisses me off, Mione. I don't like it all and the sooner we move into our apartment, the better."

I tighten my arms around his chest and kiss the back of his neck, "I don't think he will hurt me. He is jealous…Jealous I chose you over him. You know he has a fiery temper, Harry. We've seen it…once when he ditched us."

"Don't make excuses, Mione. I know it makes you uncomfortable. You may not realise it, but you instinctively reach for my hand or slip your arms around my waist when he is in the same room with us."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "I didn't realise-"

"Hey," he says as he carefully descends to the ground, "You don't have to apologise. It's not your fault. It just doesn't please me that he thinks he has the right to do that…" He grabs my hand and leads me to the Quidditch pitch to retrieve his shirt, "Here. I think you should put this on. We don't want Molly to have a fit seeing you just in your bra and shorts, Mione. Laughing, I do as he asks and when it is on, he reaches for my hand and leads me back to the house.

"Hey, did you enjoy your flight?" he asks as we walk into the kitchen. I quickly cast about for any signs of Ron, but he isn't around and I breathe a sigh of relief. At least we won't have to deal with him now.

Smiling at him, I nod, "Yes I did, but that was only because I was with you," I reply.

He grins as he squeezes my hand, "I knew you'd enjoy being away from your books and notes for a while."

The amusement in his voice is not lost on me and it makes me smile as I pull him towards him, "You know me too well. Any time spent with you, is worth it and I'd do it again…and again, if you asked it of me."

"Well," he whispers, "If that is the case, then I am going to insist on you showering with me."

"Oh Harry, you are too sweet… I will shower with you as long as it is a cool shower. I don't think I can handle any more heat at the moment," I tease as we make our way up the stairs. We both know our shower is going to be anything except cool.

"After being in the sun, a cool shower and some time with _my_ girl is what I need and then you are free to bury your nose into your books for the rest of the day," he laughs as he closes the bathroom door behind us.

"What if I don't want to bury my nose in my books, Harry? What if I want to spend the rest of the day with you? Or, we can spend the day together, while I bury my nose in my books? A fair compromise, don't you agree?" I tease as I lightly smack his firm buttocks and he blushes beet-red and that just makes me laugh even more.

"Mione, don't tease me."

I step up to him and wrap my arms around his neck, "Look me in the eye, my love, and tell me you didn't enjoy that?"

He looks me directly in the eye and smiles, "Of course I enjoyed that," he says rather bashfully and I simply have to kiss him. He looks devilishly attractive and he is not going to get away with giving me what I want, so before he has a chance, I lock lips with him and he cups my buttocks, pulling me tightly to him. His hands don't leave their place while we engage in a battle of wills with our tongues fighting for dominance. As it deepens, he moves us into the shower and without breaking our kiss, he reaches behind me and turns on the tap. I skim my hands along his back all the way to the waistband of his board-shorts and I slide them beneath it, cupping his firm buttocks in my hands. He groans softly as he tangles his fingers in my hair.

"Mmm, at least I can do that," he says softly as he moves away from my mouth to nibble my earlobe, drawing a soft sigh of contentment from my lips which in turn, earns a rumble from deep within his chest.

"So, you want an owl?" I ask softly as he pulls back to look at me. I laugh. His glasses are half-sliding off his nose, "You don't need these," I murmur as I remove them and place them on the shelf next to the hooks bearing face-cloths.

"How am I supposed to see what I am doing without them?" he asks.

"Use your hands, Harry. You know my body better than anyone else. You could do this with your eyes closed," I barely whisper as he brushes his lips along my jawline at the same time he starts tugging off my jeans. Once they are off along with my underwear, I kick them aside and wait for him to remove his sopping wet jeans and boxers. Once he has removed them, he comes back to me.

"So, I must use my hands?" he asks, amused.

I lean towards him and nod, "Yes."

"Mmm," he says softly and his eyes lighten up mischievously, "Okay. Then I need you to do something for me."

I regard him thoughtfully for a short while trying to understand what he wants when he places his hands on my shoulders and turns me around, until my back is to his chest. He then gently leans me on the wall. He grabs my hands firmly, yet gently and he stretches them above my head. I feel the hard length of him pressing into the small of my back and I stifle my sigh of pleasure. I feel him there and then I start panicking, "Harry, what are you doing?"

He replies by trailing kisses along my shoulders, to my ears and then back along my shoulders. I know he is trying to help me relax, but this, whatever he has in mind, is new, frightening and exciting all at once.

"You do trust me?" he asks softly as his hands slide along my stomach, to the swell of my breasts.

"With my life, Harry," I whisper.

"Then you have absolutely nothing to worry about," he whisper reassuringly as his hands gently work their magic, teasing every pressure point he has discovered during the last few weeks.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

I cannot sit still while I keep my eye on Harry's animated and beaming expression. He is blissfully happy. I know this because he told me so when he woke me up just before five this morning buried deeply within me. I was very surprised as it was a wonderful wake-up call and I still told him he was more than welcome to wake me up like that from this day forward and he just laughed at me… But now, his entire expression is one of excitement as Molly presents him with his first birthday present of the day. It is a square, brightly wrapped package secured with a green ribbon that matches his eyes. I assume it can only be another one of her famous _Molly Jerseys. _Every Christmas and birthday, she presents us with either a jersey, or a scarf-and-gloves-set or body-warmers and it looks like his gift is no exception. But that is not what I am excited about.

Two days ago, Molly and I went to Diagon Alley to the owlry to purchase Harry an owl. I was concerned that there wouldn't be any to purchase. Imagine my surprise when we walked to find the shop partially stocked with several owls. Among them a beautiful fluffy white owl with blue-grey eyes. I zoned in on her immediately and the Owl Master informed us that she's only six months owl. She's beautiful and I knew she was the one for Harry. When I reached out to touch her, she didn't even attempt to nip me. She just hopped onto my arm and sat there tooting away as if she belonged. It was in that moment I knew she'd be perfect for him, so I bought her and left her in the care of George who should be arriving any minute.

I cannot stand sitting at the table anymore as I am excited and nervous all at once. I don't know how Harry is going to react. I know how much he loved Hedwig. To him, Hedwig was more than just an owl - she was his companion and someone he could talk to during the long summers he spent with the Dursleys. Thinking about his aunt and uncle makes me scowl. They treated him so badly over the years and Dudley - their obese and arrogant son - went out of his way to make life as unpleasant and difficult as possible and that coupled with the way his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia treated gave him all the more reason to keep to himself and to write numerous letters to me - most of which I've kept - complaining bitterly about how unhappy and resentful he felt towards the only family he had. We have never ever told Ron about the letters we exchanged over the years. We agreed to keep that to ourselves especially when our feeling of friendship starting developing into something deeper.

I blush about that. Deeper? Seriously Hermione, get a grip, is my passing thought as Harry and I lock eyes. He tilts his head to the side and grins warmly at me from where he is sitting opposite me in the livingroom. Ron is sulking because Lavender sent him a letter telling him that she no longer wants to see someone as arrogant and sex-mad as he is. He was highly insulted and pissed off about her brush off and he has been sulking even since…and that is when his eyes are not trained on my every more whenever Harry is around. Ginny is sitting on the floor next to Ron, sulking because Dean was unable to join us today due to family commitments - or so she said. Somehow I think there is more to it. Somehow I think things between them aren't that great.

I turn my attention back to Harry just as he pulls out an emerald green polo-neck jersey, a scarf, a pair of gloves and a beanie from the package Molly wrapped with care last night while I kept her company. His face breaks into a huge smile and that makes my heart sing. He likes the set and Molly is beaming from ear-to-ear as he approaches her standing off to the side.

"Molly," he says softly as he fingers the soft jersey. It will keep him warm during the cold winter months at Hogwarts. The new school term starts in just over a month and it dampens my mood. The thought of not seeing him for extended periods of time does not please me. I have already acknowledged the fact to myself that I am going to be very lonely even though I'll be going to classes, doing assignments and studying. It will take my minds off things, but not for hours. The nights I dread the most. For two months I have slept in Harry's arms and I don't know how I am going to feel when I sleep in our bed alone for the first time. It is enough to bring tears to my eyes, but today is for Harry and I am not going to allow my insecurities to dampen his spirits. After all he has been through, he deserves this day to thoroughly enjoy himself.

"Yes, my boy?" she asks as she regards him in that motherly way of hers…And then she laughs softly, "You aren't a boy anymore, Harry. You are a young man."

He rubs the back of his neck and laughs softly, "Sometimes I feel older than I am, Molly," he sighs as he continues fingering the jersey. "This is really…I don't know what to say, except thank you," he continues.

"Harry," she says softly, hoarsely as she pulls him into her arms, "Happy Birthday…and may there be many more…and it's a pleasure…Now go on. Sit down and enjoy yourself." She turns away and walks out, but not before I notice her wiping the corner of her eye. She has always thought of Harry as her son as she has always thought of me as her daughter.

As he sits down, I expect Ginny or Ron to give him their gifts, but they don't move and my heart sinks when I notice Harry's downcast eyes. This just sucks. It is his eighteenth birthday and they are just going to ignore him. It does not seem fair. How can they hold a grudge for so long? That is not to say I am an speaking terms with them, least of all Ron, but Ginny and I have been civil, but this is not on.

"Ron," I implore as I search his face for something. He returns my gaze with a look of annoyance in his eyes, but that does not deter me from what I am going to say next…

"I cannot believe this. It is Harry's birthday and you are his best friend, yet-" I trail off when I feel the warmth of his hand on the small of my back as he stands behind me.

"It's okay, Mione. I'm okay," he says softly, albeit hoarsely and I turn around.

"It's not okay, Harry. It will never be okay unless Ron swallows his pride and starts acting like a man and not a spoilt brat who cannot get his own way," I blurt before thinking about it.

"Love," he says softly as he places his hands on my shoulders, "It's okay. I promise."

I regard him for a moment longer and before winding my arms around his neck, "I don't think it is okay."

He sighs softly as he rests his chin on my shoulder, "I know," he whispers, "But it is the way it is."

I notice Ron stand and shove his hands into his pockets. He glares at me before turning on his heel and walking out. The last thing I hear is the slamming of his bedroom door and I let out an exasperated sigh.

"At least," he murmurs, "We will be out of here by this time two days from now."

"I can't wait," I sigh as I reluctantly pull away from him much to his disappointed because he hangs his head, "Hey, I have something I need to do. Just sit down and enjoy yourself," I suggest and on cue, I hear a knock at the backdoor. George said he'd knock so I quickly make my way into the kitchen just he walks in with the owl perched on his shoulder while he carries the cage and food with his right hand.

"Hey George. Thank you. I owe you," I greet him as I grab the cage and food from him. I set them aside on the counter and George gently places the owl on my shoulder. She toots softly while she darts her eyes around in interest.

"She really is beautiful, Hermione. Harry is going to be so pleased with her. We all know how fond he was of Hedwig. It's a damn shame she died," he says softly as he shoves his hand into his pockets. "Just like losing Fred was and still is a damn shame."

"Just like so many others, George. He blames himself you know. Sometimes he wakes up in a cold sweat and shivering because of the dreams…" I sigh and close my eyes. Harry still has nightmares sometimes, especially when he spends too much time thinking about everything.

"I don't blame him. I can never blame him for what happened to Fred. It's just one of those things that no-one has any control over," he sighs and then he offers me a goofy smile, "Perhaps I should tell him that."

"Perhaps you should…I guess I better go give him his present," I say as I slowly turn around so as not to disturb the little owl sitting on my shoulder, but I don't get very far because Harry is leaning against the door-frame, with his mouth hanging open in surprise and disbelief. I give him my most winning smile as I approach him. He regards the owl before staring intently at me as if he's trying to fathom why I have an owl on my shoulder.

I grab his hands and bring them to rest on my chest, "Harry, she's yours…She's only six months old," I barely whisper as I can't read his expression.

"She's…She's mine, Mione? I didn't think…I never thought you'd," he pauses and swallow hard, "I don't know what to say…" he continues as he plucks the owl from my shoulder and cradles her to his chest. She toots softly before making her way to his shoulder and this makes him smile, one of those smiles that light up one's features and reaches the eyes.

"She's yours, Harry. I know how fond you were of Hedwig. This little owl is by no means a replacement, but I thought you'd appreciate it."

"Hermione," he whispers as he grabs me and pulls me tightly into his arms, "You have no idea how much this means to me…God, I love you…and thank you," he murmurs as he pulls way and grasps my chin. Without sparing thought to George and Molly's presence, he kisses me…hard, leaving me short of breath and totally flustered.

"Tonight," he whispers.

"Not tonight, Harry. Tonight we are going to a pub. You and me."

He gapes at me, "Hermione Jean Granger, did you just say pub?"

I nod, "I did…We are going out tonight and I will not accept anything less than yes."

He smiles, "You aren't giving me much of a choice, are you?"

I shake my head and smile, "You don't have a choice. My treat, Harry."

"Your treat, huh? That could mean so many things," he laughs softly, and I hastily look away so that he does not see the blush creeping up, but it serves to make him laugh even more.

"Go away," I tease as I step right away from him as the little owl lets out a soft toot and I smile, "What you are going to call her, Harry?" I ask in an effort to move the conversation away from us and the intense way he is eyeing me. If he doesn't stop, I am going to make an absolute fool of myself in front of Molly and George. Molly I can handle, but George will only take great delight in teasing me…Thinking about this I frown, he only ever smiles when he is around his family and right now, I can almost sense the humor that will undoubtedly be on his face, should I look up.

"You are really beautiful when you look like you do, Hermione. I now understand why Harry finds you so attractive and appealing… If I weren't with Angelina, I'd relentlessly pursue until you gave into my charm…"

Rolling my eyes and blushing like there's no tomorrow, I look up and directly at George grinning as if there _is_ no tomorrow and I flash him a grateful smile, "If I didn't know any better, George, I would think you are attracted to me," I can't resist saying as I am interested to see Harry's reaction, however he just folds his arms and grins at me. He knows I am teasing him.

George pushes himself away from the counter and saunters towards me. He is taller than I am, taller than Harry, but he is not as tall as Ron. His eyes are currently sparkling with humor and mischief and I wouldn't be surprised if…His arm snakes around my waist, causing me to shriek and nervously eye my boyfriend who is no longer amused, but angry.

"George," I say as softly as I can while I gently push him away, "Do not do this. You will regret it."

He laughs, "Harry won't mind if I-"

He makes as if he is going to kiss me because his eyes don't leave my lips, but unexpectedly, he slips his other arm around me and hugs me, "I think you are the best thing to have happened to Harry, Hermione. I think this is the happiest I have ever seen him in all the years I have known him."

"George," I whisper, all too aware of Harry's displeasure at George's boldness.

He plants a soft kiss on my forehead, "He is very fortunate to have someone like you, Hermione."

And just like that, he releases me, turns around and walks out slamming the door behind him. For a brief moment, I am startled. I don't quite understand what just happened and because of it, I turn around and launch myself into his arms. His arms shoot around me, holding me extremely close while his owl toots at us.

"I wasn't jealous…I just thought, for the briefest moment that he was going to kiss you. I am glad he didn't otherwise it would not have ended well," he says softly for my ears alone.

"For a moment, I thought he _was_ going to kiss me. I'm sorry, my love. I honestly don't know what happened there."

"It doesn't matter," he sighs, "You are in my arms now and that is all that matters. Do we really have to go out this evening?" he asks.

"Yes, we do. It's going to be fun, but more importantly, what are you going to name your owl?" I ask, to change the subject before I confess the plans I have tonight. Plans involving some of our friends from school,.

"Are you trying to change the subject, Mione? Because I am beginning to think that there is more to going to the pub than you are letting on."

I sigh, "I am taking you out tonight, Harry and that should be enough to keep your curiosity under wraps…Now what are you going to name her?" I ask, completely exasperated with him.

He shakes his head and sighs, "Luna, Mione. I am going to call her Luna. I don't think Luna Lovegood will mind," he chuckles.

"No, she won't. She'll probably think wracks-spurts have befuddled your brain…But seriously, why Luna?" I ask more out of curiosity than anything else.

"Her eyes remind of the moon - silvery gray and light blue. She's beautiful, Mione. She really is beautiful. I am seriously going to have to do something to show my appreciation…. You can't begin to understand how much it means to me," he says softly.

"Harry, you don't have to do anything like that. I love you and when I saw her, I knew she was perfect for you…Now, come here," I whisper as I grab his hands and tug him into my arms for a hug.

"I love you," he whispers, "More than you know."

"Happy birthday, Harry," I murmur as I place a soft kiss on his rough cheek, and I can't help smiling. He has not shaved for a couple of days and I have discovered that I don't mind his stubble as he kisses me senseless every night before we fall into a deep sleep. Tonight is for him, however, and he is going to enjoy himself and I am going to get enjoyment out of it simply because he is going to be very pleased to see his friends…Friends we have not seen since the memorial service at Hogwarts…


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Holding tightly to his hand, we walk into the Three Broomsticks, however he hangs back looking puzzled and confused. Biting my lip, I look away to gather my thoughts and to prepare myself for the question he is going to undoubtedly ask me. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes briefly and I finally meet his questioning gaze. I bring his hand to my chest and hold it there while he thoughtfully regards me. A small smile plays around my lips as I take in his light green cotton tee-shirt, the smart pair of beige three-quarter chinos as his sandals. That coupled with his mussed up jet-black hair and mildly amused expression, he looks incredibly attractive and devil-may-care…and it is enough to reach up and kiss the corner of his mouth as it quirks up into a smile.

"Hey beautiful," he murmurs, circling his arms around my waist, "Would you mind telling me why we are here?"

I take a deep breath and slowly exhale while I think of how to respond, however, he distracts me by sliding two fingers beneath my skinny jeans and he lightly circles the sensitive flesh just below my hip-bone. He knows it drives me wild and it takes a lot of effort on my part to remain in control, after all I still have my pride and after witnessing too many Lavender-Ron moments, I certainly don't want to stoop that level and the excludes what Harry and I did at Hogwarts all those weeks ago. The thought brings a hot flush to my cheeks, which he notices, because he tilts his head to the side and smiles softly at me as if he knows exactly what I am thinking about.

"It's your birthday and I wanted to take you out for the evening," I reply as innocently as I possibly can. I hope the others are here otherwise I am going to be very disappointed.

"Well," he laughs, "We are here, so let's grab a couple of fire whiskeys and drink up a storm."

"I'll second that, mate," says a very familiar Irish voice and we turn around, however, Harry slips his arm possessively around my waist and he discreetly slides his hand beneath my jeans to continue teasing the soft flesh beneath my hip-bone. I turn towards Harry and the surprise is unmistakable.

He shoots out his hand to accept Saemus' outstretched hand, "Saemus! How are you, mate… and your Mum?"

Saemus smiles as they shake hands, "I am doing okay and me Mum is just fine. Glad the Dark Lord is dead and glad with the decision I have made to return to Hogwarts in the Fall…and you…look different."

Harry grins and pulls me closer into his frame, "How so?"

"Well," he says as he steps back and eyes us for a moment with a puzzled, yet interested frown grazing his sweet face. To think he doubted Harry during fifth year when most people thought he was lying about Voldemort being back…I look away to my tightly clasped hands to distract myself from my threatening tears as an image of Cedric Diggory flashes behind my eyes.

During the Triwizard Tournament in fourth yet, Wormtail used the Killing Curse on Cedric and Voldemort's behest. It happened during the final challenge when both Harry and Cedric grabbed the winning cup that was a port-key to the graveyard where Tom Riddle's father was buried years ago…Cedric was not meant to go with Harry, but because he has always been noble, he suggested to Cedric that they could win the tournament and share the victory. None of it went according to plan and Wormtail killed Cedric.

It was devastating to all of us when Harry returned with Cedric's lifeless body and the Ministry of Magic tried to hush it up…and most people thought Harry had told a lie. The Daily Prophet was splashed with stories about _The Boy Who Lied_, when that was the furthest from the truth. I remember the pain and anger he experienced during that time and he confided in me, telling me about his nightmares and how Cedric's death haunted him. I think it still haunts him as he sometimes wakes up at night drenched in sweat and clenching the bedsheets in his hands.

"Are you and Hermione together?" he asks.

"We are," he replies without missing a beat, "And before you ask, Ginny and I did not work out just like Ron and Hermione did not work out and that is all there is to it."

He frowns, "I wasn't going to ask. It's just that everyone else assumed you and Ginny were together, considering the time you did spend together. I'm just surprised, that is all,' he explains.

"Why the tone of surprise?" I ask, shaking my head in annoyance.

"Um…Nevermind. It's none of my business anyway and I don't think we should keep the others waiting, Hermione," he laughs as he turns around and strides off to the centre of the room where the rest of our friends are chatting and having a good laugh about something. I notice Neville and Luna engaged in a conversation that draws her onto his lap. Compared to Neville - who is tall and big - Luna is small, with her blond hair hanging in waves around her pretty face and blue eyes. I also notice Dean and Ginny snogging while they both have tankards of God knows what them, but they sure seem happy to snog each other as if they are the only once here. Off to the side, sits Ron, looking as sullen as ever while Lavender is half-sitting on his lap. Both of them are drinking fire-whiskeys and my mouth positively waters at the thought of downing one of them. I am not a heavy drinker, but tonight I just want to be myself and I want Harry with me all the way.

"Are you ready to face them, Mione?" he asks softly while he regards me with utmost concern in the deep greens of his eyes. "Because there are going to be questions asked. They are going to want to know why we are together when they always assumed-"

I cut him off, "Why should it be of any concern to them? Nothing is as it seems, Harry. You know this as well as I do. We've known for a long time how we feel about each other and I am not going to let that lot spoil what we share…" I sigh and shake my head, "This was not what I wanted, Harry. I wanted you to relax and enjoy yourself. You of all people need it."

He chuckles, "I am relaxed, Mione. I was just giving you the 'heads-up' of what to expect from our friends…. Now, why don't we order fire-whiskeys so that we can get hopelessly drunk?"

I roll my eyes, "That coming from a teacher is unheard of, Harry. You do realise you will be teaching them?" I ask as we wander over to the table where our friends are seated. They quieten down and turn their eyes on us and I instinctively slip both arms around his waist, just to so that I can experience the warmth I have come to love as much as I love him.

"Yeah, I know. I am going to be teaching then. It's going to feel…strange. Imagine teaching your fellow school-mates?"

"Harry. Hermione."

I laugh softly. Neville always greets us as if he is seeing us for the first time. He shakes Harry's hand and then he wraps his arms around me. I literally disappear into his frame. He is like a big cuddly teddy-bear. Luna is a lucky girl to have him in her life considering her father died when he betrayed us to Voldemort and his death-eaters in a bid to keep Luna safe.

"Hey, Hermione… How are you?" he asks softly as he gently holds me away from him. He regards me with a slight frown and utmost concern in his warm brown eyes and his gaze is also affectionate.

"I'm okay. Thank you. You?" I ask as I wind my arms around Harry's middle.

"So," he smiles, "You and Harry, huh?"

"Yeah," says Harry, "Hermione and me. Not quite what you were expecting now, was it?"

"Well, to be fair and honest, it is not what any of us expected considering you were hot for Ginny… What changed, Harry?" he ask quietly as we take our seats opposite him and Luna. Luna with her blond hair and pale complexion and her eccentric ways. She's like a fresh breeze after a hot day and she always says the right things when you need to hear it the most.

She regards us with her too large, dreamy eyes and she smiles, "I knew there was something more between the two of you. Both your heads are full of wrack-spurts," she laughs a soft tinkly sound that seems to ease the tension Harry and I are experiencing. Everyone in Gryffindor always assumed Harry would get together with Ginny and that I would get together with Ron. Scowling, I look at my tightly clasped hands. The last person I want to think about is Ron and the way he always looks at me as if I am a piece of meat. I shudder at the thought and I move closer to Harry and his warmth. I rest my head on his shoulder as he closes his hand over mine.

"Hey, I've got you, Mione," he whispers for me alone.

"I know," I sigh, "But don't worry about me. All I need is a fire whiskey to loosen me up a bit and I will be fine."

"At least we can both drink fire whiskeys," he chuckles just as Saemus places two tumblers of the said drink in front of us, however he eyes Harry warily as if expecting to be reprimanded for the fire whiskey in his hand. I realise everyone knows he will be returning to Hogwarts as a teacher in the Fall. He realises it at the same time as I do, because he grins at the expectant faces around us.

"It's my birthday everyone. Enjoy yourselves. I only officially start in the Fall, so you needn't worry about me reporting you to Professor McGonagall or giving your detention. Most of you are eighteen anyway, if not nineteen," he chuckles as he lifts his tumbler and prepares to toast everyone.

"Happy birthday, Harry," they all chorus as we clink our glasses together, "And," says Neville, "May you and Harry have more happy days ahead, and frankly," he says lowering his voice to a mere whisper, "You deserve each other. You look good together."

"Is that so?"

I jerk back, nearly spilling my drink in the process and for the first time in my life, I see red. I jump up, round on Ron and I glare at him, "Why don't you just fuck off and leave me alone, Ron? I have made my choice and it is not going to change."

"Yeah?" he smirks, "I'll fuck you first and then I will fuck off. How does that sound, Hermione?"

"Damn you," I snap, "I am sick and tired of your attitude. I happen to love Harry and it is about time you accepted that."

By this point, Ginny is glaring at her brother while he makes an absolute fool of himself and for the first time, I realise he is inebriated…again and this time, Harry is seething with unbridled anger.

"I think you should go, Ron," says Ginny quietly but firmly and I am surprised by her attempt at trying to diffuse the situation.

"Why should I leave, Ginny? It is after all, Harry's birthday."

"You are not welcome, Ron, not when you can't even behave like a mature young man. This…whatever it is…has got to stop. Hermione has made her choice and you have to accept that…You cannot force someone to love you, Ron. You know this as well as I do…and," she continues, flashing Harry and I a hopeful and encouraging smile. My heart thaws slightly with her attempt at trying to be my friend and I return her smile…somewhat weakly as I am too afraid to move, considering Ron is now towering over me. I recoil away from him until I feel Harry's hands on my hips as he stands up behind me. He wraps his arms around me and holds me extremely close and he also murmurs protego, surrounding us in a protective shield, just as a precaution.

"Since when have you moved on so quickly?" he demands and then he snarls at her, "Fucking whore," he mutters. Ginny visibly pales and sits down next to Dean, who is barely keeping his temper under control. He wraps his arm around her shoulder and gives her a kiss and they exchange a few words. She smiles weakly at him as he gets to his feet. Dean is African and one of the nicest guys I know. He is tall, thin and lanky and quite attractive by my standards. He has always been interested in Ginny. They dated a few times during our sixth year, but when she made her intentions clear with Harry, he faded into the background, but considering he is here and treating her so well and with respect, I am grateful they are together.

"Please apologise to Ginny, Ron," he says quietly as he folds his arms firmly across his chest.

"Why should I apologise when we know it is true?" he asks.

"Because, contrary to what you and everyone else thinks, I am her fourth boyfriend… Second if you want to include the few months we dated in my sixth year."

I think my face is more shocked than anything else. It was never like that. I saw her literally with every Tom, Dick and Harry during my fifth and six years. She was never without a boy following at her heels. She was always seen snogging one boy or another…I realise he is trying to shelter her from further insults and for that I am grateful.

"Or we can escort you out, so that we can celebrate the rest of Harry's birthday in peace? Is that not why Hermione asked us to be here tonight? To give Harry a good time and in her own special way, to thank him for everything he has done over the years? Or are you going to be a git and spoil it for the rest of us?"

I feel Harry's eyes on me. Questioning my motives for bringing him here and with my heart sinking into my stomach, I turn towards him so that I can explain why we are all here, but his expression gives me reason to pause. His eyes are shining too brightly and a single tear slowly rolls down his cheek and I do the only thing I think of - I wind my arms around his neck and I kiss him just to let him know it's okay to cry. It's okay to feel saddened by everything that has happened and it is most definitely okay to cry because you are happy and by his eager and rather passionate response, he is happy. He tightens his arms around me and deepens our kiss until the sounds of our friends cheering us on fades into the background. He has kissed me many times, but this kiss means something far more…But what that more is, I would not know. All I know are the warmth of his lips melding with mine. All I feel is the strength of him as he pulls me intimately close…Close enough to feel the reaction I bring out in him and close enough for me to gently pull away from him…

I grin at him before planting a soft kiss on his forehead, "Let's party, Harry. You deserve it. Have another drink. Saemus?"

"On my way," he grins as he heads for the bar for another round of drinks…While we wait, I cast about for any signs of Ron and I am relieved to see his nowhere in sight, but that does not mean he is not around. He is more than likely lurking around somewhere in the back with Lavender hanging onto his every word while they both get inebriated.

"Hermione!"

I turn towards Ginny and I smile, "Thank you for what you did back there."

"I couldn't let him get away with it, Hermione. Frankly, I cannot wait until we are back at Hogwarts so that he can grow up. I can't believe the way he acts around you. It's immature and unnecessary. I understand his pain, but this is something else entirely."

"He'll get over it, Ginny," I murmur as I stare into my tumbler of whiskey, "At least I hope he will. He is Harry's friend…"

"Not anymore, Mione," murmurs Harry as he touches my elbow. "How can I be friends with him when he insults you at every given opportunity?"

"Because he is angry with me, Harry. Not you. He is angry because I hurt him…"

"And you still give him the benefit of the doubt, Mione? After everything he has done to you? After all the insults he's thrown at you? How can you keep on giving him the benefit of the doubt?"

"Because I have to try, Harry. That's why. I have to make him understand."

"Why? Damn it!" He slams his fist onto the table. "I don't understand. Are you sure, Mione, are you sure you don't feel something other than friendship for him? Because if you do-"

"I don't feel a fucking thing when it comes to Ron, Harry. How can I when my heart belongs to you?"

"Yeah, whatever," he mutters as he pushes himself up. I watch helplessly as he turns around and walks away from the too quiet table. I jump up, grab my bag and I bolt out into the warm summer evening. I wrap my arms around myself and I walk with my head bowed to the point that will take me away from here. If this is how it is going to be with Harry - the man I've bared my soul to for two months, then it is better if I leave and don't look back. I am not going to explain myself just because he is too stubborn to listen to me.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note**

Please be advised that the below chapter contains scenes of violence, language and adult themes. Please also bear in mind that jealousy can cause a person to act violently as you will discover.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

I don't take note of my surroundings until something makes me stop in my tracks. My ears and eyes are on high alert. It is just after nine at night and I did the stupid thing of walking away from the Three Broomsticks. I want to kick myself for being so irresponsible. Slowly I turn around just as a pair of arms wraps around me. The arms are strangely familiar but lack the warmth of Harry's arms.

"You scream, I will make it all the more difficult for you, Mione," rasps Ron as he deliberately grinds his hips into the small of my back. The alarm bells start ringing when I feel the hardness of him.

"Let me go, Ron."

"No…Not tonight," he hisses enveloping me in the stench of liquor that is enough to make my stomach churn. He roughly drags me into an alleyway and shoves me up against the wall as he presses himself into me. He tries to kiss me on my mouth, but I turn away and that just angers him and he backhands me.

"You were supposed to my girlfriend, Hermione. Not Harry's and I am going to make sure you live to regret every moment you spend with him, starting right now," he growls as he fumbles with the top button of my jeans. _This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. Not to me. _

"Ron, don't do this, please?" I whimper as flashbacks of Bellatrix's torture appear as clear as daylight in my mind.

"Do what, you fucking whore? This," he laughs mockingly as he gropes my buttocks, "Or this," he snarls as he closes his huge hand over my breast and gives it a hard squeeze, "Or this," he moans…The fucking bastard moans as he deliberately grinds into me letting me know how aroused he is. _Harry, where are you? Please find me._ I close my eyes and pray…pray to the Lord above to send someone to save me from this madness. He continues grinding into me as he tries to kiss me, but I keep on turning away from him. I try pushing him away, but it only angers him further and he backhands me again…It's so hard, my head jerks back into the wall behind me causing me millions of stars to appear in front of me. I feel my jeans give way and then he starts fumbling with his jeans while he breathes his disgusting alcohol breath all over me. It is enough to make me sick to the stomach. In fact, I want to vomit. I feel the bitter taste of bile as it rises up, threatening to choke me. As he frees himself, my eyes fly open just as Harry…It has to be Harry…and a couple of other guys are running towards us. Before Ron realises it, three guys pull him away from me and I slip to the ground, wrapping my arms around my legs and an anguished cry bursts forth. My face is throbbing. My eyes are smarting and burning and my head is pounding madly.

"You keep your fucking hands off her, Ron," Harry yells as he punches him in the face. "I've just about had enough from you. She is _my_ girl. Not yours!" I anticipate Harry to punch him again, but he thinks better of it, "You not fucking worth it, Ron. Leave Mione alone and leave me alone," he continues.

"Harry," I barely whisper just as Dean and Saemus drag him away from us. God knows what they are going to do to him and I don't care. Harry runs to my side, drops to his knees and wraps his arms around me.

"I'm sorry, Mione. I didn't mean to walk off like that. I am sorry. Why…Why did you walk out? Why, my love?"

"I was pissed off with you," I whisper as I slide my arms around his neck desperate to absorb his warmth, "Harry," I sob, "Take me home…"

"Mione," he murmurs as he cups my face between his hands. He turns my head to the side and gingerly touches my bruised jaw causing me to flinch.

"I'm sorry…Let's get out of here," he whispers as he carefully stands with me hanging on for dear life. He plants a soft kiss on my forehead and then he spins on the spot, sending us into oblivion. I don't know where he is taking us. I hope we aren't going back The Burrow. I don't think I'll be able to look Molly in the eye once she has heard about Ron's attempted assault. The thought brings a fresh bout of tears that spin with us…With a soft rushing sound, we land on a soft patch of grass in…I take in the neighborhood and the fact that I can see the bell tower of the university not far from us.

He doesn't give me a moment to check out our surroundings as he quickly walks through the gate. He fumbles in his pocket for his key. He inserts it into the lock and we step into the foyer of the apartment complex we were set to move in to, two days from now. Thankfully most of our stuff is here. We just have to go back to The Burrow to fetch Luna and the rest of our belongings. He walks up the stairs, to the end of the passage and unlocks our apartment door. Once the door is closed behind us, only then does he lower me to my feet, but he does not release me. He leads me through the open-plan livingroom, diningroom and kitchen, along the passage leading to the two bedrooms, study and bathroom.

He takes a right into the main bedroom and carefully leads me to the bed, "Sit down…please?" he asks softly as he removes my handbag from my shoulder. He then places his hands on my shoulders and gently eases me onto the bed. I can't even look at him because I am burning with shame and guilt.

"It's…It's my fault, Harry. If I wasn't with you, then he wouldn't have…"

"For fucks sake, Hermione, stop giving him the fucking benefit of the doubt. No man has the right to violate another woman. Only a sick fuck like Ron… For once," he says, softening his voice to a mere whisper, "For once, stop giving him the benefit of the doubt…He had no right to hurt you. No right at all. He didn't hurt you, did he?" he asks as he kneels in front of me and he gently entwines our fingers together.

"Apart from my bruised jaw? No… He tried to assault me, Harry. The bastard tried. He kept on kissing me. Fondling me and groping me. It was fucking awful. His hands were all over the place and he kept on…He kept on kissing me and he reeked of alcohol."

Swallowing hard, I close my eyes and try to restore some calm to my shattered nerves, "He must have known how much that would hurt me, Harry. He knew what Bellatrix did to me and all I could see was her fucking face mocking me…and his hands…his hand were all over me," I barely whisper.

"Come," he murmurs as he gently pulls me to my feet. He takes me by the hand and leads me into the bathroom. He quickly turns on the shower and while it warms up, he starts undressing me. He does not break eye contact with me as he undresses me, until I am standing in my undies. He cups my face, and turns it to the side…He lets out a low whistle and then cold anger flashes across his face. His fingers are gentle as he examines me for any fractures and his touch is so, so soothing. His fingers are firm yet gentle and they are so warm against my cool skin. I close my eyes so that I can focus on his touch.

"No broken bones, at least," he says softly as he tugs me towards the shower. I peek at him from beneath my lashes and I manage a small smile because he is still fully-clothed and ready to get into the shower.

"What about you?" I whisper.

"I am going back to The Burrow to collect the rest of our things, Mione."

"In your wet clothes?" I ask as we stand beneath the hot water. He laughs softly as he wraps his arms around me, "You are leaving me on my own, Harry?" I barely whisper over the hard lump in my throat, "After what I've just experienced, you are going to leave me alone."

"I won't be gone long, Mione. I go now or tomorrow. Either way you are going to be on your own for a couple of hours. I don't see you coming with me…Not after this…At least not yet," he sighs, "I don't want to leave you on your own."

"Then don't, Harry. Please don't leave me alone…" Biting my lip, I silently plead with him to listen to me. I don't think I'll be able to get through the night without him to comfort me should the nightmares return. I start panicking at the thought. I clutch his hands while I attempt to bring my fear under control, but it does not work. I am going to lose it and to make matters worse, the scar on my wrist starts throbbing. I have not felt it for a few weeks, but now it is throbbing madly. I shrug away from him and look around for anything to lessen the pain, but there is nothing in sight. I then proceed to dig my nails into the soft flesh of my wrist.

"Mione?"

The alarm and panic, mingled with concern is evident in his voice, his eyes and his face, but this is the only way I'll cope, "Leave me alone, Harry. Get out. Go away. Fuck off. I don't care, but just leave me alone." My voice trembles as if being alone is the answer when I know it isn't. It will just bring everything rushing back and that coupled with what Ron tried to do to me is just too much. I sink to the tiled floor of the shower and I wrap my arms protectively around myself and a strangled sob bursts forth. It's sad and deeply painful, but I can't seem to stop. It gets louder and louder, until I have to cover my ears.

"Mione?"

I don't miss the tremor or pain in his voice, yet he doesn't go. He slides next to me, wraps his arm around me and tugs me into his frame where he gently eases my head onto this chest. He reaches for my deceitful hand that is trying is trying rip my wrist apart and he forces it upwards to rest on his chest. He murmurs a soft incantation which in turn makes the water warmer and the steam billows around us.

"Mione, my beautiful girl," he whispers hoarsely. This draws my attention to look at him and I am surprised and touched at the same time to see tears sliding down his cheeks. He wipes his eyes, but the tears keep falling, "Just breathe, my love," he murmurs, "Just breathe."

"Harry," I sob as I fist the material of his shirt into my hand so that I can get closer to the warmth he exudes. His warmth is like one of the those fleece blankets you use in the winter months - warm and cosy - and right now, he is warm and cosy and exactly what I need.

* * *

He dries my hair and my body while he keeps eye contact with me. In fact, he looks devilishly handsome with his still-damp hair and glasses sitting skew on his nose…again and it makes me smile. I am feeling a bit better now that the stench of Ron has been well and truly washed away with Harry's showergel. I grab his hands to stop him from drying my hair and I move them to my hips so that I can readjust his glasses. I smile tentatively at him as I reach for his glasses and I readjust them so that they sit comfortably on the bridge of his nose and he rolls his eyes.

"You have got to stop doing that, Mione," he teases as he shakes his head.

"If you used contact lenses, you wouldn't have this problem, Harry, but considering you are so damn stubborn, there is no hope for you," I retort.

He tilts his head to the side and sighs, "I happen to like my glasses."

I shake my head, "No, you don't, Harry. I've seen you take them off and give them a disgusted look as if they have well and truly exasperated you. You should get contact lenses and besides, I like to see your eyes without you wearing them."

"I don't know what you are talking about," he says as he looks away from me to my hands resting against his chest.

"Harry, you don't lie very well, you know that?" I tease.

"How so?" he smirks as he eyes me from beneath his lashes.

"You just don't know how to lie, Harry," I tease as I grab his hands and drag him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom we are going to share tonight. I cannot wait to climb into bed and curl myself next to him while he holds me securely in his arms and recounts our adventures from our school years. He likes to reminisce and I let him because it is all part of his healing. For the last two months, his moods have improved and he is less broody…and now this had to happen…on his birthday, when all I wanted was to give him a good time and Ron spoiled it for everyone involved.

"I'm sorry about your birthday, Harry," I whisper.

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault. I blame myself, really, for walking away from you like I did when I knew you were only trying to help, but seriously, Mione, you have to stop giving him the benefit of the doubt. Why the guilt? It's not as if you and Ron were an item or anything like that. He lost his chance, Mione. He killed it for you and you can't blame yourself for that. You did nothing wrong."

"I should never have kissed him. He poured his heart and soul into that kiss and I ruined it for him. I pushed him away because I did not feel the same way about him. I don't love him, Harry. I love you. You were the man I wanted to kiss. You were very much on my mind at the time because I was trying to understand what I felt for you. I knew it was more than friendship and his kiss only clarified that and I felt it even more when you told me you had to face Voldemort on your own. That killed me because I knew you wouldn't survive….You can't imagine the joy I felt when you fell out of Hagrid's arms to confront Voldemort. I was beyond happy. I can't really describe it. It was in that moment I knew I loved you and it was that moment I knew you love me too."

"Mione," he breathes, "I have loved you for the last three years. It didn't matter that I was 'with' Ginny for a short while. It didn't matter that it was you I wanted to kiss after that Quidditch match - the one I missed because I was in detention. It was you I wanted to kiss-"

"But she got there first," I finish for him.

"And I was confused for a long time after that," he laughs before sobering, "Until recently…You were all I thought about in the moments before Voldemort used the killing curse. There was so much I had to say to you, but there was simply not enough time…I love you," he whispers, "And I know this may be presumptuous, but Mione-"

Shaking my head, I press my finger to his lips, "Don't ask it now, Harry."

"Why?" he murmurs softly.

"Because I need to kiss you," I reply and before he can respond, I kiss him. I pour my heart and soul into our kiss as it speaks volumes. It speaks when I cannot find the words I want to say. My fingers automatically thread themselves in his still-damp hair and it makes me smile, but I don't break our kiss. The temperature between us steadily increases until we are panting. He wraps his arms around me and lifts me off my feet enabling me to wrap my legs around his waist.

"Are sure about this?" he murmurs as he gently lays me on _our_ bed. The thought really does make me smile and I simply have to kiss him again. I start loosening the buttons of his shirt as he trails kisses along my jawline and neckline, right to the hollow at the base of my throat. His lips are like fire against my cool skin and I simply cannot get enough. I need skin-to-skin contact. He continues kissing me drawing many sighs of pleasure from my lips. He moves back to my mouth, laying claim to it once more while my hands busy themselves with the task of peeling off his wet shirt. It's a long process, but I persevere. Eventually I manage to push it off his shoulders and toss it to the floor beside the bed. By this point his mouth is lavishing undivided attention on my one breast while he kneads the other with his free hand. I move my hands along his arms over his shoulders to his back and I skim my fingers along his spine all the way to his chinos. I move my hands between us so that I can remove his belt and loosen his button and zip. I am acutely aware of his straining arousal that is simply begging for freedom. To spare him from further discomfit, I make quick work of his chinos and before long, they are lying on the floor on top of his wet short. His hands are everywhere at once as he relentlessly lavishes attention on my body, however as I push his jocks off his hips, he pauses, opens his eyes and stares directly into mine.

"I don't know if this is a good idea, considering what you went through. I don't want to scare you," he says softly as he cups my face between his hands. "I really don't want to scare you off, Mione."

"You won't scare me off. You didn't do anything wrong…If you make love to me, it will help, Harry. Please?"

"Mmm, what if I hold you?" he says softly as he nudges my legs apart to accommodate him.

"Are you sure that is what you want, my love?" I whisper as I take delight in skimming my fingers in lazy circles along his back.

"He sighs softly as he reluctantly rolls off me, "I don't think we should. Not tonight, Mione."

I turn to my side so that I can look at him. He slides his arm around me and pulls me flush against his body. I push my leg between his so that they are tangled together and I close my eyes listening to the soothing thump-thump of his heart beneath my ear.

"This is exactly what I want," I whisper before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
